Stand Alone: The Merle Dixon Story
by zzetta13
Summary: HU (Hypothetical Universe) explores Merle's home life abuse, unlawful business dealings, prison past, and more. Also the story is peppered with characters from the show along the way.
1. Chapter 1

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**The Merle Dixon Story"**_

_**Author's note: Actually, "Stand Alone: The Merle Dixon Story" could have easily been entitled "The Dixon Family Saga", since it involves others,… others than just Merle Dixon. I may change the opening sub-title to reflect that of the story which is what the work is about. That is, if it proves to be of interest. **_

_**Thanks for viewing **_

****************_ Merle Dixon __*_*****************

_Merle didn't consider himself a bad guy (although he did consider himself a bad-ass), he was just a fellow that had been put in bad situations, like when he was a kid and was being raised by an abusive dad, and a sot of a mother._

_Merle Dixon and his siblings used to be beaten by their father almost every day….that was until the day he fought back. He had caught his dad whipping Daryl with a tree branch. Daryl was twelve years old, and Merle was in his teens. He had grabbed the branch from their father and responded in kind…. (Daryl was being disciplined for something he didn't do, stealing their father's last two beers from the liquor cabinet. He had been innocent of the transgression. It had actually been Merle had taken those bottles, although he had never admitted to being guilty).The older Dixon boy had grown tall enough that he would not allow the old man to abuse his younger siblings._

_It had been bred into Merle… to never to stick your neck out. But even people like himself had their limits. Child abuse was a terrible crime, even Merle was aware of that…._

_He had grabbed the stick from his father and began beating him with it. His father had screamed and threatened to call the law but Merle had told him that if he did, he would report to the police his own child abuse. The man realized that he could go under the microscope. And said accusations, if found to be true; could have him locked away in prison for a very long time. Merle's father had backed down from his theat. Since that point, the beatings had become less frequent. _

_From that time, Merle had been on a "high", a condition that made him feel that he could do no wrong. It had not stopped him from administering his own form of abuse. _

_Although the older Dixon boy did not get physical with his younger siblings, he did abuse them verbally, especially Daryl. Merle was always telling his younger brother how worthless he was, how he wasn't a man, how he couldn't take up for himself, let alone their younger sister. This thickened Daryl's skin…making him dislike the person he was. At his young age he had idolized his brother. The words coming out of his mouth were like gospel, they must be true._

_Merle had discovered that he could control people, if not by the use of physical strength… then by the use of words. At least he had the power over his little brother and sister, and, for the short period of time that he remained under the same roof, he had controlled them._

_Merle being a bit older than the two… soon dropped out of school, and began a life of debauchery. He began hanging out with the wrong crowd. The type of boys that would steal from neighbors, rob old men or dabble in drugs. Of course this lifestyle was heading him down the wrong path. He was setting a course in the wrong direction, but at his age, he didn't care. Once the victim of abuse, it was hard for a child to recover. Merle was almost following the footsteps of his own father, well not directly, but along the same path. He remembered the time he had stolen a beautiful red Mustang convertible. Driving it around like he was the king of the world…that was until Daryl had spotted him. _

_His younger brother (somewhat older then) had grown up. Daryl was not as big as Merle, but HE,…had taken responsible for the "Dixon" family name. He had taken the authority of "Big Brother"._

_Daryl knew that his brother would be in deep shit if he were caught with a stolen vehicle, he'd already been seen by several of the local townsfolk in the small community, and with the reputation he had, Daryl knew that his brother's next run-in with the law would result in a prison sentence._

_Daryl had decided to return the car to its rightful owner. He forced Merle to the passenger side (which hadn't been much of a chore considering the condition the Merle was in) and got behind the wheel himself. He placed his hunting rifle in the back seat and drove toward the location Merle had said he'd "found" the vehicle._

_After about a mile Daryl had noticed some flashing lights behind the car, SHIT, they were in trouble now, the LAW was on their tail. He pulled over and the officer got out of his patrol car…..weapon drawn. Daryl noticed that it was Deputy Barney. _

_Daryl, now nineteen had grown up with the young officer Barney, and although they had never been best buddies, they had been schoolboy chums and carried a bit of male rivalry between them. _

_Barney approached the car, when he noticed the driver he holstered his weapon. He knew that Daryl was no threat to him._

"_Nice car," Barney spoke._

"_Yeah, friend of ours, just retuning it back to him," Daryl answered, like Barney couldn't see through that lie._

"_Oh yeah, sure resembles a make that I just got on the telecom, a reported stolen vehicle," he paused, "same color, make and all, coincidental, don't you think?"_

"_Yeah, funny…" Daryl braced himself, both hands on the wheel._

_Barney looked in the back seat…._

"…_and a rife in the back, report didn't state that it was an armed theft though. You wouldn't know anything about that though, would you?"_

"_No sir, just borrowed the vehicle to do a little hunting," Daryl had to know how stupid that sounded, but his brother had been in enough trouble with the law, he would buck up and take the fall if he had to….._

_Barney laughed…._

"_A red mustang borrowed to go hunting, the critters must be colorblind….."_

"_Squirrels….," the young Dixon answered. Merle had remained silent all this time. Fact was he was literally in no condition to speak._

"_I don't see any such creatures lying about? Squirrels you say, must be in the trunk?" It was almost not a question, more an observation…_

_Barney marched around the car. From his observation there were no scratches, dings, or bents on the vehicle. The stolen car was still in excellent shape. Daryl kept watching him eye the rifle, like in admiration. He decided to springe in a bargaining chip._

"_Look Bill y(William Barney)…. My brother had a few beers while we were out in the woods; he kept scaring the critters away. I decided to call the hunt off, and return the car to our buddy, he didn't know that we had taken his ride, so he might be a little upset if he finds it missing," Daryl hated to lie, especial with a fabrication so transparent it could be viewed as looking through a glass of water. Still, that was the best he could do under the circumstances._

"_So, you didn't have permission to take the vehicle?"_

_Daryl was in a fix, a bind to save his brother…._

"_Look Billy that rifle in the back, it's yours if you let us walk," bribing an officer of the law, could Daryl sink any lower?_

_Billy eyed his ex-school chum. Sure the words that had just spoken were grounds to haul his ass off to jail. But he liked Daryl, even though he had taken several girlfriends away from him in school._

_Barney knew the Dixon family. Around the dinner table at night his mom and dad had often gossiped about the Dixon fold. How their father was a piece of shit, their mother a zonked out alcoholic who hardly knew where her kids were. He actually felt sympathetic towards the Dixon clan._

"_Deal," _

_Barney knew he'd just committed a crime himself, accepting a bribe that could get him in serious trouble (like he hadn't done that before). His was a small, spot on the carpet, hick world. His town only had two jail cells, and those were reserved for the most desperate of criminals. If he brought in a local, someone know to the sheriff as an "Otis" , then Billy would have made his boss very mad, and Billy didn't like getting his boss angry. He obliged to the agreement…._

"_Ok, park the car and I'll have dispatch notify the owner. They'll send a tow truck out in thirty minutes to retrieve it and bring it back. In the meantime the two of you get lost."_

"_What are we supposed to do to get home," Daryl questioned? _

"_Walk," Billy replied, and then he turned and headed to his patrol car._

_Daryl was a little aggravated with the deputy. It was at least two and a half mile back to their house, and Merle was in no condition to be traveling, on foot anyway. But, when the young Dixon thought about the string of events that could have happened, he was satisfied with the outcome. He had saved his brother from prison at this time, he looked at his brother. Merle's eyes were still open and focused on him. Did he understand what Daryl had just done?_

"_I just saved your ass big brother," …..Merle could see displeasure in his younger brother's eyes, "….and it cost me my favorite rifle. You own me."_

_END?_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**Hard Time"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Hard Time" is part 2 of The Merle Dixon Story arc. All credit of named characters belong to the talented folk who created the alluring story of "TWD". My hope is to borrow these characters and add my own bit of twists to scenarios that could have happened leading up to, and before Wildfire. My intent here is to shed a bit more light on the individual that we've grown to love and hate, Merle Dixon….**_

_**Merle is a character that is a lot more complicated than meets the eye. The "Governor "may think he's in control, but maybe Merle and Milton could be coaching from the sidelines? In this story arc the world is beginning to become a little more complex, can't say more…. The world is a bit more sympathetic towards a guy when they know he was an abandoned guppy of a child. **_

_**Without parental guidance, who can blame a child for going a little astray? I don't know about you but I find myself actually feeling sorry for Merle sometimes. Brought up in a household where he is the oldest child, and pretty much abandoned, also his brother and sister experience the same thing. Who can blame these kids for turning out the way they did? Still, at some point society will audit your ability to judge right from wrong…..and childhood abuse will no longer play a factor in folk's sympathy.**_

_**Anyhoo, years later now Merle finds himself in a different location….a place where his younger siblings cannot help him get out of trouble. He is angry, but still, tough enough to manage, that is until the Aryan Brotherhood decides that he qualifies as a candidate for their "Pyramid Program". They will test his metal to see if he is worthy.**_

_**Merle Dixon is a racist, a womanizer, and a flat out pecker-head, with rebel qualities that will eventually show that he is under no man's rule. Will he join the "One-Two", or will he remain a "Stand Alone" kind of guy…as the title implies? Read on to find out what happens.**_

_**PS: Also, I want to reiterate that for now this story arc is before the "Wildfire" incident, and even now the "WD" apocalyptic world is still some time away. This whole idea is a buffer of what could have caused Merle to become the person we see in the Apocalypse. Our whole planet has no idea what is coming. My story arc sees this as sort of a "Rapture" scenario. A time on earth where hell is realized… you want answers, talk to Hershel Greene (just joking) Z**_

****************_ Hard Time__*_*****************

_He raised his arms and put his hands flat against the dingy brick wall. Leaning forward he let the warm water spraying from the shower-head run down his naked body. _

_The West Georgia Correction Facilities wasn't known for its down-home hospitality. This was nice, however; in general prisons weren't run to be nice, or hospitable. They were meant to protect the public from the animals held within (the human animals). It gave the law-abiding public the peace of mind that they needed to sleep comfortably in their beds at night._

_Merle Dixon didn't consider himself a hardened criminal, he was just a man, a man that had found himself at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and least he forget, with the wrong friend. He was innocent of the charges which had led him to prison (what individual in the slammer didn't feel that way?). It had been a matter of circumstances, reconcilable circumstances that, had he been given a new chance, would have never happened. The thing was they had happened, and the result was that they'd caused a man to die. It didn't matter that the man was so old he could have shaken hands with King Tut, the thing was that Merle was involved in a chain of events that may have accelerated the individuals departure from this world. Incidental Manslaughter, Merle was guilty, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and deep down he knew that he was guilty. _

_This is how things had started..._

_**************** ** 22 months earlier *************************_

_Merle Dixon found himself on the road traveling with a friend, Ricky Rogers. Not your average friend, but Ricky and Merle shared common attitudes, one being a disregard of the law, and another, an ability to do dastardly deeds to get money. _

_Ricky and Merle weren't terrible men; they were just men who considered that common law didn't apply to them. They weren't big time gangsters or drug dealers (although they did meddle in narcotics), they were petty criminals, and therefore should be of little interest to the authority; well at least they considered themselves as petty._

_Hog rustling, moonshine running, and small time theft was their main source of income. They had never physically harmed a soul, with the exception of a broken arm or two, that was until they met up with Fred and Ethel Hatcher. A retired elderly couple on their way back to Florida after visiting their grandchildren in Texas. Ethel had always been on Fred's ass about checking the radiator in their old Buick. The woman was a constant bitch about the running condition of their automobile. Fred was no mechanic, but maybe he should have listened to his wife on this particular trip._

_The car had stalled and left them stranded on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere. Of course Fred had informed his wife (of forty years) that it wasn't the radiator, it was, in his opinion, the alternator…..at least that was his uneducated guess…._

"_What the shit difference does that make Fred! We're still stranded!" Ethel proclaimed._

_Ethel usually wasn't a woman to swear, but for those times when she was really angry with her husband, they just seemed to flow out. Now they were stuck miles away from anywhere, with no chance at seeing a friendly face unless a good "Samaritan" showed up. Ethel prayed that a reputable rescue would come and fix their car. Her prays were answered, well maybe not completely, God had forgotten to consider the reputable part…. _

_Ricky and Merle stumbled upon the stranded tomb-mobile while they were out casing the local roads in search of victims. They found what they were looking for in the form of the Hatchers; they seemed to be easy prey. Did the old couple have cash? Did the woman have jewelry? Must be something the two country boys could steal. After Merle and Rick stopped to offered assistance, the two pretty became aware that they had stumbled onto a dry well; they found little to make the crime of robbery worth their while._

_Merle and Ricky were both shade tree mechanics. They had learned to make repairs on cars rather quickly due to their moonshine running days. Ricky deduced the problem with the car right away, corroded battery terminals, an easy fix. However, now that they played their hand, and shown the real reason for stopping was to rob the couple, they could not disguise their true intent. Also, whenever Rick had discover that the actual gain for their troubles was minimal, he decided to take the car. Merle was against this idea, he wanted to take the squandering of cash found in Ethel's purse, cut their losses and just head home. Thirty eight bucks and a stolen car alone were not worth getting jail time (Merle remembered the time Daryl had saved his ass with the red Mustang) but Rick wouldn't hear of it. He needed payment, he owed a dealer some money and he knew he could sell the car to a chop shop and make up some of his debt._

"_What about them, "Merle had asked?_

"_We take them out in the woods, tie them up, and leave them….simple," Ricky proclaimed._

_Dixon was against this too. What if something happened? What if they were not found for a long time? The woods were not exactly a welcome place for an elderly couple. There were wild animals around, and just the exposure of the elements could cause harm to someone like Fred. The fella looked as if he'd seen his 100__th__ birthday three days ago._

_Rick wouldn't hear of it, he was in a more desperate situation than Merle. He needed dinero and he needed it badly. It had been the reason why he and Merle had taken this little cruse down the Interstate, they had been on the hunt for wounded gazelle. They had discovered what they been looking for when they had noticed Fred's car pulled off on a lonely side road. The old man had thought he'd seen an exit sign for a service station, but had become lost._

_Merle had refused to assist Rick in stealing the car and binding the Hatchers and leaving them bound in the woods, this had caused an argument between the two, although they had made their disagreement with each other in private, not wanting the Hatcher's to hear their dispute._

"_Look, I'm abandoning this gig," Merle told his partner, "this old man and old lady wouldn't last half a day out in the harsh countryside, and if either one, or both of these people need hospital care, should something bad happen, then you and I are set for "Hard Time" in some God forsaken place that I don't care to visit, I'm not up for that."_

_Still, even with Merle's caution, Rick wouldn't listen. Dixon had no alternative but to leave his partner to do his dastardly deed alone. Merle took their car and headed back to the highway. Eight minutes later he received a call on his cell phone, it was Rick, and he needed assistance badly. Merle turned the car around and headed back to the scene. Once he arrived he found Fred lying in the grass off on the side of the road, and Ethel in the car in the back seat tied up. Merle got out and began walking towards his buddy at a desperate pace; Rick was standing over Fred's limp body, a small caliber weapon in his grip. He immediately began to defend himself over what had transpired over the past few minutes. _

"_I didn't do nothing Merle," Ricky began an attempt to explain..._

_"Fred said that if he was to be tied and left in the woods that he needed his medication out of the glove box, instead he reached under the passenger seat and pulled out this pistol. I grabbed him before he could shoot me, but he grabbed his chest and fell to the ground. I think he's having a heart attack!"_

"_Great numbskull," Merle said, "….now you've got us in more shit than we may be able to get out of…..Sweet Baby Jesus!"_

_Merle knew that they were in a fix. Rick had used the couple's cell phone to call him back to the scene of the crime. He came up with a solution, although it was a poor one…._

"_Look, have the woman make an emergency call to 911, she reports to the authority that her husband is having a heart attack and she gives the location. After that we take their car, their cell phone, and anything else that may have our prints on it and drive away, hopefully into oblivion. I'm hoping that the authority can't make any connection to us. Maybe we can skate by this bit of stupidity by the skin of our teeth…" Merle finished._

"_Or we could just kill them…." _

_Dixon was taken aback by his friends suggestion, he never considered Rodgers a murderer. The boy was showing his true colors._

"_No you dumb-ass you want that on your conscious as well as the list of crap that you've already mounded into a shit-pile, let alone a stint in the slammer for murder," Merle paused a second, " and I don't mean in the local jailhouse here dick-wad? Dammit Rick, I actually think that your mother and father could have been brother and sister, you inbred imbecile!_

_Rodgers didn't like hearing that from his partner, but he'd heard it often enough to be used to the verbal abuse, just like Merle did to his own brother and sister. Rick accepted this abuse only because he knew Merle was smarter than him, and although Merle wasn't of the caliber of person to be a general, or major (he could not lead over large groups of people) even though he did have the leadership qualities and command of a sort, he would never be able to be the leader he thought of himself._

_Ricky did as he was instructed. He had Ethel make a 911 call, after which he and Merle each took a car and headed off in separate directions. _

_Two months later Merle was picked up by the authority in the connection of the death of Fred Hatcher. COD (Cause of Death), heart attack brought on the excessive excitement and exertion of the crime in which Merle Dixon had been an accomplice._

"_Thanks Ricky," was all Merle was heard to say as he was led off by the deputies whom had applied the cuffs to his wrists. Merle Dixon was in prison now, five years his extended stay. He knew he'd have to be vigilant and resourceful if he wanted to live. Many of the inmates here were "Hard Core", killing another inmate to them was like swatting a fly on the wall._

_Merle leaned in tighter against the wall of the shower room; he let the hot water cascade down his body. He wasn't the smartest inmate at the West Georgia Correctional Institute, but he wasn't the dumbest either. There were two men using the showers directly behind him. The prison usually allowed the prisoners to shower three at a time. There was a guard stationed just outside, still this afforded little assistance if an attack was to be made (inmate attacking inmate). The damage would be done before the guard could respond, Merle knew this. He also knew that if he turned around and noticed that both inmates were looking in his direction, then, their intentions were not to be considered as innocent, they were not here to just wash their bodies, they were here for another purpose as well, and that purpose was to test his metal. _

_Merle turned to view the men he was in the showers with. There were two sets of eyes looking in his direction, their bodies covered in tats. The Aryan Brotherhood was ever vigilant in their search for enemies, or as it were, new recruits, Merle knew he met the criteria of both. He knew that if an attack came it would be at the of the fifteen minutes shower, when the inmates were supposed to make a peaceful exit. The two had already turned up the volume of the knobs to the hot water. The steam that arose would mask the attack, a simple but effective tactic. Merle put his arms down and doubled his fists, he was ready._

_END PART 2 _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**Hard Time 2: Introduction to the Brotherhood"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Hard Time" is part**_

****************_ Hard Time 2 __*_*****************

_Merle Dixon sat on a concrete slab in the prison courtyard of the West Georgia Corrections Institute. He was contemplating the events of the day. Looking down he could see that his hands were scuffed and marked with the occurrence of what had taken place only moments prior. He laid his arms across a cement table that was in front of him. _

_Merle had been an inmate in the prison system for eighteen months now, so it wasn't as if he was a newcomer to hard time, still, with some inmates having been at the facility for thirty years, that didn't set him up as an old-timer either. He still had forty two months left on his debt to pay to society, the result of his involvement in the death of Fred Hatcher, a retired machinist from Philadelphia who had been living with his wife Ethel at the time in Florida. _

_Merle was bitter about the whole ordeal, still he would spend his dime and do his time, and then, once he was out, he would try to take control of his life._

_As he sat there, he could feel the eyes of a horde of inmates gazing upon him…. he also felt a trickle of liquid oozing down his left temple. He reached up to touch the warm flowing stuff as it streamed down the side of his face. He moved his hand to the front of his vision….and yes; it was exactly what he thought it to be, blood…_

_******** Earlier ********_

_An hour earlier Merle had had a visitor to the complex, his sister. It had been a planned visit; an agreement had been reached two weeks prior. The authority of the WGCI were ready and had made arrangements for the two to meet in a segregated area of the complex, just west of the Iron-Courtyard (weightlifting area)._

"_You look great Baby Girl" he told his younger sibling. Merle had called his little sister Baby Girl since the time she was two. He loved his little sister and felt responsible for her, just as he did Daryl. He had tried to be the breadwinner of the family, for a time (their father seemed to be always gone, off doing construction work or at some bar), he had tried to gain enough cash to keep his younger siblings in school, and keep them safe. It was sad that most of his efforts had been illicit in nature. Anyway, he was paying for one of those misdeeds now._

"_Wish I could say the same about you big brother…." His sister replied, she cupped her big brother's face in her hand, "you look a fright. You've lost weight and your cheeks are sunken in, are you eating well? Is the food here nourishing? "Merle could see the concern in his sister's eyes,"…. are they treating you right? I'll complain to the warden on my way out. Just because a man is behind bars doesn't mean he has to be treated like an animal."_

_Merle had to chuckle to himself a bit about that. His sister had no concept of prison life, and as far as the Warden was concerned, he was like a Dean over any other facility of like manner, as long as the prisoners behaved well enough, and there were no riots, it was Ok with him if they kicked each other's ass once in a while. The place was here for confinement, not rehabilitation; Warden Stockton wasn't running a daycare._

"_I'm fine Baby Girl," Merle replied, "how's Daryl?"_

"_Good, he misses his big brother, bored."_

"_Bored?"_

"_Yeah, says he hasn't had to dish you out of trouble for over a year, kinda finding himself with nothing to do sometimes," the two laughed._

"_Hunting?"_

"_Yeah he still does that, not as much through since mom di…," she paused, a bit of sadness showing in her face._

_Merle hadn't been there for their mom's passing; a regret that still bothered him. He hoped his younger siblings didn't see him as a contributor to her death. A school dropout,…. in and out of trouble all his life, Merle, much as he hated, could easy blame him for their mother's drinking issues. His sister began again….._

"_Anyway how's…"_

_They were interrupted by hoots and hollers from the weight gallery (the workout area). The inmates who had been allowed to pump iron and use the running track had noticed Merle and his sister, and although they were yards apart, their vulgar suggestions and nasty improvisation carried well to the eyes and ears of Merle and his little sister, she was shocked._

"_Ignore those riffraff," he told her, although it was hard to voice two sentences now without hearing something totally upsetting come from the "Iron Courtyard"._

_In thirty minutes the meeting was over, and Merle's sister returned to the safety of public society._

_Merle was aggravated with the disruptions coming from those ass-holes in the weight courtyard. All he wanted now was to get to his cell and think about things._

_************************ Fight Club ************************_

_After the meeting with his sister, Merle traveled through the labyrinth of gates and fences to return to the main courtyard of the complex, this also meant that he had to venture through the weightlifting area. Inside he found the inmates that had taunted him and his sister. Merle began walking towards his cell; he could feel a multitude of eyes staring at his back._

"_Hey man, nice girl, you tapping that? "Merle heard a voice speak from behind him, but he didn't turn around or respond._

_The man who'd asked the question became a little agitated at Merle's refusal to take notice of his inquiry._

"_Hey man, I'm talking to you! You hear me?" _

_This time the voice was louder and much more aggressive, Merle could not ignore that he'd heard. He turned around and found himself facing one of the biggest brutes housed at the prison, the inmate known as Orc. _

_Orc was a big man; several inched taller than Merle, and outweighing him by at least ninety pounds. Still with his audience (the other inmates standing around watching), Merle knew that he couldn't back down, or show fear (implicating that he was weak). For the record, Merle had no intention of becoming somebody's bitch. If he showed weakness, there was no telling what horrors he would have to endure the rest of his stay at WGCI._

"_Yeah, I was aware that there was something behind me," Merle spoke; he scanned the group of faces, and then focused on Orc….._

"_I just thought that it was the vent of steam coming off a pile of shit."_

_With this the Iron Courtyard exploded in a vent of laughter._

"_That's funny," Orc said, "but I was thinking that the girl, she is your sister right? I was thinking that if there hadn't been a fence between us I might not have been able to control myself…..," then he made a gesture with his hips._

_Merle studied the big man for a moment; he would be a tough advisory, but Merle was willing to give him a try. He ignored Orc's statement…..as if he hadn't spoken it at all, then he returned a quip._

"_Orc, how much longer do you have before getting out of this mad-hole," Merle questioned?_

"_Longer than you know my friend," the man was grinning now, and then he spoke again, "and adding another year or two to my sentence wouldn't make a bit of difference."_

"_That's what if figured, "Merle said," how about after a few years, when I get out, I go visit your mother. She sure must to getting lonely about now, don't you think?"_

_Again the Iron Courtyard erupted in laughter, that is, all were laughing but Orc. He had had enough of Merle's insults; he came running at the man. Merle sidestepped his charge easily, and delivered a punch to the back of his head. The blow would have tumbled a weaker man, but Orc was a corn-fed, mountain of a prairie dog, raised in the mid-west, he'd been punched many times and could withstand the brutality of a fight, he had won many bouts. _

_Orc mainly relied on the bulk of his size to win his battles, this is how he overpowered his opponents, yet Merle had been in many fights also (as witnessed in zombie fight club and the altercation with Michonne in the forest) and most often used his wit and smart thinking to win him victory, or get himself out of trouble, whichever the case._

_Merle watched as the man didn't even stumble; he turned around and came after him again. This time Orc landed a blow against Merle's left temple. Merle went flying through the air and landed ten feet away in the hard courtyard dirt. Orc came at him again. Merle's agility allowed him to sweep his hands behind his head and place them on the ground for leverage. He then delivered a quick kick to Orc's groin area, and the big duff doubled over, then Merle planted a swift kick to his chin. Orc cascaded backwards…. this allowed Merle to regain his feet and he was standing over the man in two seconds. Orc tried to regain his footing but Merle was on him in a millisecond. He placed him into a choke hold, and in less than a minute the big Oaf had pasted out and lay on the ground. The final came when Merle planted a twelve inch shoe stomp to the man's chest. He then looked around to see what was coming next. To his surprise no one advanced upon him. He stood victorious and watched as the remaining horde dispatched and wondered away in separate directions. They had not chosen to attack; they could have easily dispatched him, with their numbers, but instead they drifted away and returned to their workouts. _

_Merle stood there alone for a time, he was confused and still resigned to the surreal. He was still an infant when it came to the prison culture. It may take some time for him to decipher the structured implication of prison life, that multi-tiered level at allowed someone to reach the top. There were many things that still confused him; still the question remained, would he live long enough for that to happen….He contemplated the question?_

_******************* A decision to come ******************* _

_Merle Dixon sat on a concrete slab in the prison courtyard of the West Georgia Corrections Institute. He was contemplating the events of the day. A man came up and sat on the bench across from him. He sat on the concrete bench facing away from Merle. Casual in his attitude, he sat straddling the concrete slab sideways to Merle, indicating that this was a cordial, yet non anchor-able visit. His sleeves had been cut high on his prison issued coveralls, giving his muscular arms nothing to bind them if a fight should ensure. Merle noticed the tats on the fellow's right arm; he knew that they distinguished him as a member of the WGCI Aryan Brotherhood, and a leader. Just below his right shoulder was printed the name "Roscoe"._

_Merle knew also that he had distinguished "himself". Weeks prior he had emerged victorious from the shower room, and had whipped the two members of the "Roscoe Brotherhood" who had been bid to take him down. The "Roscoe Brotherhood" was a local off-chute of the Aryan Brotherhood (the infamous remembered club that plagued the United States prison system), their reign... located at the West Georgia Corrections Institute, was not taken serious by the main chapter. They were a separate gang and not visibly viable as viewed by the main Brotherhood. Still this did not keep Roscoe from wanting to achieve merit status. He glanced over at the man sitting across from him, yet indicating that there would be no need for trouble…_

_Merle was wandering the meaning of the visit, and also, he was wondering what was coming next?_

_END PART 3_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**Voodoo Sally"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Voodoo Sally" is part 4 of the Stand Alone story arc. I am spicing up the work a bit with tales of the supernatural. Always fun to interject a little otherworldly flavor into a story plot….don't you think? Hope you are entertained by this tongue-in-cheek chapter, thanks for reading, Z**_

****************_ Release _*****************

_Merle Dixon sat on a wooden bench just outside the prison gates. No particular reason, he just wanted to enjoy the freedom, the freedom he hadn't been able to enjoy for five years._

_Merle had just been released from West Georgia's Corrections Institute twenty-one minutes earlier. He tilted his head back and sucked in a deep breath of non-confinement air. Not that the air on the outside tasted any better than the air on the inside, well maybe it did. Just knowing that he could stand up and walk in any direction without having someone observe his every move was enjoyable enough to Merle. If he had had a decent singing voice he would have stood up and sang the praises of the Lord…..that is if he had believed in God, he wasn't sure that he did._

_Merle had telephoned his brother and sister that he was coming home. They were both excited but neither could be there to greet him when he got out. The only transportation Daryl had was a 70ty model chopper, and it was down for repairs at the moment, also, Merle's little sister was in college, way up in Michigan, so she couldn't skip class to go and see her brother. They both had sent money so he could purchase bus fare though. A one way ticket to "Hickville, Georgia" Daryl had written in his note, with an attached smiley face of course. Merle had grinned at his brother's little cute drawing. Daryl also noted that he would have squirrel stew ready when his big brother arrived home._

"…_.Oh, and don't rob anybody along the way. There's a job waiting for you at Jensen's Auto Shop once you get home. I'd hate to have to go see Peter and tell him you're back in WGCI for stealing an old lady's purse."_

_Merle laughed at Daryl's note. He knew that he was only teasing, it was a complete joke. Still he would have to beat the shit out of his little brother once he arrived back._

_Merle decided to walk the way to the bus station. He could have taken a taxi, but why spent the cash his little sister and brother had sent him if he didn't need to? The station was only a mile or so into town. Merle stood up and headed in the direction of the bus station._

****************_ Voodoo Sally _*****************

_On the outskirts of town Merle came across a few structures that seemed to be outside of society's acceptable norm. One place of business caught his attention somewhat quickly. It was a little hole-in-the-wall joint named Sally's Voodoo Shop. Merle thought that the place looked interesting. He decided to go inside and investigate (his bus ride didn't leave until 6pm)._

_Opening the door Merle became aware of a bell ringing. There was a little fairy bell attached to the door that would ring indicating when a customer had arrived. Even with the sound of the bell it looked as if the place was deserted. _

_The shop had a multitude of crap everywhere, with no particular order or organization. There were beads hanging from the ceiling, stuffed animals everywhere (actual once living critters) and so much nothing that lined the walls and crowded the avenues that one could barely walk. Merle thought that if he moved too quickly he may knock something over. He made his way to where he figured the register counter should be, he stood in front of the register._

"_May I help you?" He heard a voice off to the side of the counter. An older black woman emerged from the shadows._

"_Something I could help you to find?"_

_Merle was set back an instant; he stood there studying the old woman for a moment, her features, her expression. She stood in front of him, slightly to the left, fanning herself with a large ostrich feather._

"_Well maam I'm looking for a gift," Merle began, "…. a gift for a brother and a sister."_

_Merle lied, he really wasn't there for gifts, he was there out of curiosity._

"_You just got out of the pen and you're looking for a "Thank You" present for your siblings."_

_Merle was shocked, how would she know that? He looked into the old woman's eyes. He could see ages there, years of living that had brought both knowledge and experiences of a life long lived. Merle said nothing at first; he was still stunned at the woman's ability to correctly read him._

"_Well I guess you have me pegged Miss….."_

"_Douglas, Sally Douglas…..my son is up at the West Georgia Penitentiary, in there for stealing cars. I wish he would have been more like his cousin Theodore, but he wasn't. Chris isn't a bad boy, just got involved with the wrong crowd."_

_Merle knew what she was talking about, same had happened to him. Anyway he remembered having a fight in the prison a year ago with someone named Chris, Chris Douglas if he recalled correctly. Roscoe had wanted him to take revenge on an inmate that had stolen his toothbrush. As Merle recalled he had knocked out several of the other inmate's teeth._

"_Now you have no need for a toothbrush," he had said. He hoped this woman couldn't see that in her mind's eye._

"_Yes, he still calls home every now and again," Sally voiced, "can't understand him much now, since he has teeth missing."_

_HOLY CRAP!_

_Did this woman know Merle? Know that it was he who'd deformed her son's speech? He was about to exit the voodoo shop when the woman's next words had him stand straight up in his shoes._

"_Dixon, there are bad times coming ahead. Rapture of the Raptors, the world will become changed like you won't believe," she paused momentarily, "I've got a joke for you, Why don't zombies swim," she stopped, Merle was taken back by this unusual turn of events, she continued, "they don't have to, why swim when you can walk?"_

_The old woman giggled at her own joke, then her expression turn deathly serious. She reached under the counter and pulled out two ornaments, one a bracelet, the other a medallion on a leather strap._

"_These would make great gifts for your brother and sister," Sally said, "Blessed by the gods, it will keep them safe and exclude them from harm." She pointed to the medallion, "I tried to give this one to my nephew Theodore, but he wouldn't take it. Please you have it, and give it to your brother. I think he may be needing your help in the future."_

_Merle Dixon exited the Voodoo Shop. He wasn't sure if he'd just encountered a crazy person, or if the old woman truly had the vision of looking into the future. Anyway, it was time for him to return to his journey of making his way to the bus station. He flipped the medallion he was to give to Daryl over his head, the bracelet for his sister he stuck in his pocket. He again traveled the sidewalk to the bus station._

_END PART 4_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Stand Alone 5**_

"_**The Rapture of the Raptors"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Rapture of the Raptors", refers to the "beginning" of the end of the post-apocalyptic world of the WD. As the human race has progressed, and proven to be the dominant species on the planet, have we forgotten something, our humility. Like those large lizards of eons past (the Raptors), we have organized and hunted the lands and fished the seas to near nothingness. Our smarts have superseded our intelligence so that we've failed to understand that we must co-exist with Mother Nature. We have farmed the lands bare, and polluted to sky so that it affects the respiratory systems of some new born babies. Well, someone has had enough. There is a plague cycling the planet, whether "human made" or the will of God, someone's got to pay, and that someone looks to be us. I hope you enjoy this vision (scenario) of how it could have all started, and I hope it starts you to thinking, as always I enjoy the feedback (special thanks to Viking Death March for the comment) Z**_

****************_ The Dinner _*****************

_The time, 1 am, the place, Farley's All Night Dinner & Donut Shop, Bakerville, Georgia:_

_Merle Dixon lifted the coffee cup that he held in his hand towards his lips, he paused momentarily to look around; a slight grin crossed his face as he thought that it was ironic that there were no law officers in the dinner at this time. _

_Early morning hours were usually the time when Tux & Chumbly (Riley Tucker & Maurice Chumbel) were in the donut shop getting their breakfast (The two, along with Deputy Barney, made up half of the Baker County police force). This night however, they were conveniently absent. Merle considered asking the lone waitress at the establishment, Christy Ann, of the whereabouts of the officers, but then thought that the question could wait until later…after he finished his nice steamy cup of fresh java. He brought the cup to his lips and took a pleasurable sip; he then turned to look at his new partner, Michael. _

_Michael Rhover was an old acquaintance of the Dixon family, and a friend to both Merle and Daryl. He hunted with Daryl, and conducted illicit affairs with Merle. Michael worked at the same auto repair shop that Merle did, after said Dixon's return to Bakerville. It had been eight months, fourteen days, and five hours since Merle had returned to his small community (after his release from prison). He had acquired a new job at Jensen's Auto Repair Shop and was doing well. Still, old habits die hard, and Merle again found himself engaging in illicit affairs. "Moonshine running", it paid good money and was a "cash on delivery" business that he liked being a part of._

_Merle also knew that he couldn't lie to himself any longer, he liked being a rebel, and he liked rebelling against the law authority….the "man" that kept him down. Yet, it wasn't as if he couldn't respect discipline nor had any use for leadership. He had prospered well, within the prison system. He had served the Aryan Brotherhood many times, although he'd never become a member. Once Roscoe had laid out the structure and code of the "One-Two" that day in the courtyard ,and that Merle would have to forgo all other loyalties', even to his family Merle Dixon had declined membership. Usually, refusal to join a clan in prison meant one's certain end, but Roscoe had chosen not to do that with Merle. The white supremacy leader had decided to use Merle as a whipping post. Have him conduct crimes outside the Aryan faction so that they wouldn't lead back to the Brotherhood. The arrangement worked well, and Merle remained a "stand alone" guy. This pleased the Dixon man, fact was, Merle's whole family was a rebellious lot, well, except for his little sister Hayden; she was the "white sheep" of the family so to speak. _

_Merle was proud of his little sister's accomplishments; she was the one blood relative that actually may make something of herself. Now however, returning to illicit affairs, he could no longer use the excuse of needing extra cash to keep his little brother and sister in school, he had to readily admit, he liked committing crime. He enjoyed being the odd man out. It was in his bones not to "Conform to the Norm". _

_The Dixon family had always been considered by the community as a den of rebels. His dad, Stef Dixon (Stephen Dixon), his mom (rest her soul) and even his younger brother Daryl were not the type to conform to any rules. They knew that this country was the land of opportunity; only in their eyes it meant making your own opportunity._

_Merle wasn't an outsider in his own family; he fit in well with the nuts and bolts. It was Hayden; however, that was the oddball of the group. She hoped to break the family tradition and make a new mode. Bring some integrity and honor to the Dixon family name (it was an uphill battle for the lone daughter of the Dixon clan). Merle would admit, but only to himself, that he loved and admired "Baby Girl" for her guts, one good apple out of five, that didn't speak well of his family._

_Anyway, returning his thoughts to the dinner Merle looked up to see a tv show playing on a monitor above the bacon and eggs grill that Christy Ann was now standing under. The waitress would glance up occasionally and view the program that was playing._

"_Hey there Miss Christy Ann," Merle began, "don't you think it plays better with the sound?"_

_Merle and Michael both laughed at the ex-cons smart ass remark. The waitress turned to view the two._

"_Well Mr. Smarty pants, I've got the sound turned down because of Jim," they all turned to look at the diesel mechanic hunkered down in a serving booth fast asleep. His scraggly dark beard and his raggedy ball cap made him look no better that the folks on the tv monitor. Merle and Michael both laughed at the man that seemed to be stone dead to the world._

"_I don't think that turning up the sound will disturb Mr. CAT over there," Merle said, referring to the name on Jim's baseball cap. Christy Ann knew that Merle was probably right, still why should he be interested in what was on the television, it was only the news, and the coverage of the riots out in Arizona, she voiced her opinion._

"_Why do you care? It's only the news, and what's happening out west."_

_Merle looked up at the tv program, there seemed to be some kind of riot going on, and the police force handling the situation seemed to be doing a rather sloppy job. Merle spoke his piece…._

"_What is it, those potheads out in California causing a fuse over not being able to smoke their weed on the city buses?" He and Michael both laughed again…_

"_It ain't California Merle, its Arizona," Christy returned._

"_Oh, my pardon, slant-heads then…." The man was full of jokes this morning. Christy looked at him…_

"_Ain't you heard nothing, folks are rioting out there about being attracted. They're being mauled and mutilated out in the countryside. There's some kind of cannibalism going on, and the authorities don't know what to do."_

_Just then there flashed news footage of people walking around out in a field. They were walking slow, and mechanical like, but it really didn't set them apart from folk wandering around in a fog of drug induced surreality. The footage was from a cell phone and poor in quality, and Merle couldn't make out much of the details of the individuals._

"_Kinda looks like Jim over there," he laughed, "by the way Christy, where are Tux and Chumbly tonight? Don't those fellows patrol the night shift most often?"_

_Christy turned around and looked directly at Merle…._

"_Why so concerned about Tucker and Chumbel Merle, you concerned about running one of your "moonshine" deliveries again. This time Michael laughed, but he laughed alone. Merle studied the waitress a moment._

"_Well sweetheart it's like this, "he began, "can't ask you to marry me if'n I don't have a large bank account now can I? Unless you only wanting something else that is large?" This comment had Merle smiling again, and Michael laughing all the louder. Merle was good in a fight with his fist, but he was equally as qualified with his insults._

_Christy couldn't help herself, she had to giggle too. She was used to country boys making rude comments. It helped past the time and spice up her evening. She leaned in close to the two men that were visiting the dinner that early morning._

"_Well Merle, if you have to know, Tucker and Chumbel have been called to Atlanta, to help with some rioting going on there as well. You can conduct your illicit affair in broad daylight if you choose," she turned and headed away from the counter, then looking back over her shoulder she added, "also I do like 'em big…. big bank accounts make me very happy," she finished and returned to the grill._

_Michael swallowed a laugh, after Merle shot him a pair of eyes, then he spoke._

"_Guess I should call it a night also Merle," he said, "we've already finished that cargo run down to Bixby, and I told Daryl I'd join him in the woods for a hunt after daybreak around 10am. I'll drop you home and I'll see you at the repair shop on Monday," he told Merle. The two left the dinner and headed to their respected homes, well, maybe respect should not be a part of that last sentence :)_

_END PART 5_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Stand Alone 6**_

"_**Outbreak"**_

****************_ Outbreak _***************

_Merle Dixon awoke from a deep slumber. It was Saturday and he and Michael Rhover had just finished a moonshine run down to Bixby the night before. His head was still spinning, due to a little excessive beverage consumption taken in that Friday evening, yet it wasn't moonshine that Merle had consumed, it had been beer._

_White Lightening…Merle knew better than to partake of any bottles of brew he was to deliver for his clients. If there were six cases of moonshine to be delivered, then there'd better be six cases of moonshine received at the other end. Distilling the spirits was a time honored tradition for some folk of those lonely back wood hills in Georgia. The quality of their liquor was usually guaranteed to melt the fur off of a six year old ferret. Upon delivery if there was supposed to be one hundred and forty four bottles of fire-water to be transported, then there'd better be one hundred and forty four bottles that reached the other end. This meant that the coach-driver and his shotgun partner should not have become acquainted with any bottles of brew along the way, if you get the meaning. Merle Dixon was an upfront guy when it came to his illicit dealings. If he promised that he would get your goods to market, then you could bet that he would. Moonshiners had no consideration that they were breaking the law, and to this day they maintained an innocence that they were only businessmen, or women, moonshining didn't discriminate between the sexes._

_Merle turned over in his bed and took a look at the clock, 12:47pm. "CRAP", it was already past noon. He decided it was time to get up and at least attempt to enjoy what remained of that sunny Saturday afternoon. He arose and headed for the living room. He paused and retrieved the television remote that was resting on the couch. He turned on the tv, but didn't stray to watch what program came up on the monitor, instead his continued towards the kitchen. Merle knew that Daryl was out hunting; Michael Rhover had said that he was meeting his brother for a hunting excursion at about 10am. With Hayden off, away at college, their mother gone, and their farther having left town after his wife had died; the only remaining occupants of the house were himself and Daryl._

_Merle opened the refrigerator; there within its humble confines were only seven slices of cheese, a pickle jar with only three pickles left inside (the runts of the litter) and a six-pack of beer, with only five remaining. Merle grabbed the closest beer…..beer for breakfast, or lunch, whichever daytime meal one wanted to call it, he laughed._

_Suddenly Merle heard his cellphone ringing in the other room; he brought his breakfast with him and returned to the living room._

"_Hello" he answered._

"_Merle, its Hayden, You watching tv?"_

"_Hey Baby Girl you…."_

"_Cut the crap brother this is important….." Merle's little sister shut him down quick. Merle wasn't used to his baby sister being so short with him; it gained his attention rather quickly. He focused on the tv screen, he could see that the same news coverage that he'd witnessed at the diner the night before was still on the monitor today._

"_Yeah, the tv's on…."_

"_Turn up the sound," Hayden requested. Merle did as he was asked. The broadcast announced the same. People in the streets were rioting over things they had witnessed in their hometowns. The hysteria seemed uncontrollable._

"_What's going on Hayden?" Merle didn't often call his sister by her real name. If he did, it meant that he had taken a serious interest in what was happening. He held a dire focus on the television at this time._

"_It means the end of the world big brother," his little sister's voice came over the airwaves._

****************_ The Soul Eaters _***************

_Daryl Dixon and Michael Rhover were walking the woods near the Rutledge farm when each began to realize that their hunt wasn't going so well. From the start the two had shared a feeling of creepiness inside their gut this day. A seasoned hunter, Daryl felt the forest held a "strangeness" to it, for one; there were no sounds of birds or small animals, nor the scuttling of any woodland creatures at all for that matter. Was nature taking a holiday?_

_They were out a mile past Foster Creek when they did hear something. Each man turned and looked to the south. There they noticed several individuals crossing the creek headed east, while their hunt was taking them west. Other hunters, they assumed, but the distance was such that they couldn't tell much about the other party. The two scurried past the creek and into the woods beyond. In an hour the hunters decided that the trip was a waste and it was time to return to Michael's truck. They slung their weapons and headed back the way they'd come._

_Since it was late autumn many of the trees had shed their leaves and there were junctures of the woods where a person could see for some distance. As they approached his vehicle, at one hundred yards Michael and Daryl could see that there were people near his truck. Most folk out in the countryside respected other peoples' property but it was always a good idea to remain prepared for vandals. Daryl and Mike each got their rifles ready. As they got closer the group of strangers seemed to wander away from the area. Michael looked his vehicle over, there seemed to be nothing missing, but then again he had left nothing behind worth stealing. _

_They had loaded up and were making their way down the dirt roads back into town when suddenly a person appeared out of nowhere. He had walked from behind a tree near the road and right into the path of the oncoming vehicle. Michael could do nothing but slam on the brakes and lay on the horn. In a second the truck tumbled over the man and the vehicle tugged right and crashed headlong into a tree. The two hunters were stunned, but Ok, they felt sick though, Michael had just hit somebody…_

"_Holy shit man! He walked right out in front of me, you saw!"_

_Michael glanced straight over at Daryl, almost as if he were looking for clarification of what had just happened. The driver then gazed into his rearview mirror. There was a definite lump in the road where the victim laid completely motionless, haven been totally run over by the truck. Each man felt a lump in his stomach, but they knew that they had to exit the vehicle and investigate._

"_You check him," Daryl said, "I'll check the truck to see if it's still drivable," Mike gave Daryl a questionable stare, "look we have to make sure the truck can be driven, it's the quickest way to get him to a hospital," that made sense. They each got out and while Mike headed towards the rear, Daryl headed to the front of the vehicle. _

_Daryl also needed time to prepare for the gruesome sight he might see. The younger Dixon had field dressed many game animals in his life, critters he'd killed himself, so it wasn't as if he wasn't used to blood and guts, still when it came to an actual human being, that was all together a separate matter. _

_Daryl heard sounds coming from the back of the truck, gurgling noises, like someone was struggling for breath. He edged his way around to the back of the wrecked vehicle, bad news for one thing, the truck was un-drivable….he was hoping that he wouldn't be getting worst news when he joined Michael._

_As he approached he could see his friend leaning over the body, the fellows arms around Michael as if he was still alive. "He gonna be Ok?_

_Suddenly Daryl's friend was physically thrust from the man, and he noticed that Michael's throat was totally ripped out. Michael Rhover grabbed his neck, he tried to speak but no words came out. Daryl's friend's eyes were wide and in shock. He struggled for speech but the blood just gushed more profusely from his throat._

_Daryl looked over into the face of the victim, and he witnessed a horror he had never seen before. The fellows face was literally shriveled to almost skull like. He spit forth a horrid sound like he was dying of thirst. Daryl backed away, WHAT WAS GOING ON? He heard sounds behind him and turned to see others like the man on the ground approaching, another man, and a woman. They were between him and the truck so he could not return for the weapons. He turned to run but tripped, he flipped over on his butt and scurried backwards. The two men and one woman were attracted to the trashing of Michael. They fell upon him and began tearing him apart with their teeth._

_Daryl nearly blanked out from the sight. He was on his feet and running down the road in two seconds. He felt sick that he had left Michael, but looking back he had discovered that more of the creature had emerged from the woods and the truck was overrun._

_Daryl ran for what seemed to be hours, but it could have only been minutes. He approached a church on the outskirts of town. The doors were open, he ran inside. The place was empty, and as eerily silent as the woods had been. He could hear something coming down the road. He gazed out of a window; there were more of those things. They moved silently as ghosts in the night, yet with their numbers their footsteps sounded like a marching army. Daryl sought a better place to hide. There was a door, leading down to a basement, he entered and quietly closed the door behind him, then he walked down the steps. Down at the bottom he could see that the cellar was used for storage, but in the back on a solid blank wall someone had left a message, a message written in blood, it read as such:_

"_They made their pledge but didn't try,_

_Proclaimed their faith but didn't buy,_

_Now He's sent a plague to take their souls,_

_Once removed their hunger grows,_

_Feasting upon the living to regain what was lost,_

_Save themselves from damnation at any cost,_

_Curse my wickedness and the evil life I've led,_

_Save me Lord from the soulless undead, _

_The Soul Eaters- Father Mathew"_

_Just as he'd finish reading the message Daryl heard something behind him. He turned to see a frightful sight approaching him on the ground. Eaten from the waist down, the collar still proclaiming him a priest was the holy man of this shallow abode._

"_Father Mathew…" Daryl exclaimed, and although he wasn't a religious man (hadn't been to church for years), Daryl did respect those who'd chosen the heavenly path to follow. Still, in this regard, it hadn't seemed to have helped. Father Mathew stretched out his arm to reach for Daryl. The other he used to pull himself forward. There was a heavy iron cross on the wall, Daryl retrieve it and swung it above his head….._

****************_ Collapse 1 _***************

"_Merle you have to get out of there," Merle heard his sister speak over the cell phone, "….get Daryl and leave immediately. Head for the big city, Atlanta, the military seem to be setting up these places as fortresses. I'm heading to New York. It's not sure what's going on right now, the experts are even baffled, still the main goal is to get clear of the infected areas and stay alive. I love you big brother, and I love Daryl. Hope to see you soon, and stay safe….."_

_The phone went dead and at that very moment Daryl burst in through the front door._

"_Shit Merle, we have to get out of here!"_

_END PART 6_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**Bitter Angels"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Bitter Angels"is the 7**__**th**__** chapter of the Stand Alone series. It also begins immediately after chapter 6. I must place a caution here, the stories that I write, although not sexually graphic in nature, sometimes may get a bit gruesome when it comes to exploring details of the WD, or, as in this case, expressive offensive language. **_

_**Merle Dixon (as everyone knows who watches the series) can get a bit harsh in his descriptive view of the world, and he apologized to no one. He is a bigot, sexist, and can hurt people with his words alone,(and also his fists). To represent the character properly I may have been a bit more descriptive in this chapter over the presiding works. This story might be a hair under the "M" rating so I caution any reader that, If this is not for you, then please stop here. Still if you can listen to a guy spout negative phrases, and can continually makes an ass of himself, and (written with total respect for Michael Rooker, a great actor) it won't offend you, then you're welcome to continue. I hope that you enjoy, Z.**_

_**PS, I don't condone or necessarily agree with any racial, sexual, religious, advanced age, or other negativity statements or thoughts of characters' that appear in this work. I only acknowledge that they exist. My hope is that they are viewed in the humorous context in which they were meant to be seen. My belief is that humankind has certainly advanced beyond the scope of what is presented herein, thank you, Z**_

****************_ Chapter Collapse 2 _*****************

"_Merle, we have to get out of here!"_

_There stood Merle Dixon's brother at the door, echoing the same words his little sister had told him just two seconds ago._

"_What's going on Daryl?"_

"_The hell if I know. All I know is that this town is being overrun by goons. I've encounter at least sixty on my way back here," Daryl paused for a second, "and they got Michael."_

_Merle was shocked, but isn't that always the case when we find out someone we know has met their doom._

"_Where's the Stanley Stewart," Daryl asked?_

_(the Stanley Stewart was the nickname of the motorcycle Merle and Daryl drove around town. Its distinguishable SS on the fuel tank had law enforcement stop the rider of the chopper many times. Merle had come up with nickname rather quickly at some point, as a farce to irritate the law officer who'd stopped him. Of course everyone really knew what the SS stood far. It was just Merle's way of punching back at established authority, anyway the nickname stuck and when speaking of the bike sometime the Dixon brothers referred to it as Stanley Stewart)_

"_It's in the shop, don't you remember? I brought it in yesterday to raise the handlebars a bit. That's been done, but I still have to reattach the grip brakes."_

"_How in the hell are we supposed to get out of here without our bike then," Daryl quizzed?_

"_Look," Merle began, "Peter closed the shop today….. so that he could go check on his mother in Blairsville. With all this chaos going on he was concerned that she wouldn't be able to evacuate if there came a need. I think its all bullshit, but he did it anyway. Still the shop is closed and locked down, but there are cars in there that we can take. With the shit that's happening now, it may be better for us to be car thieves rather than bodies waiting to be put in a grave."_

_He was right, Daryl could see that. After things got settled, and returned to normal, a slap on the wrist for car theft was a preferable sentence than waiting to see what happened next. _

****************_ Bitter Angels _*****************

_Merle Dixon used his shop key to allow himself, and his brother to enter the auto repair shop. It had been a two and a half mile trip from their home….. to where Merle worked, and they had encountered several goons along the way. Still they'd kept themselves hidden. Merle had a weapon, a pistol, a 45 caliber Colt, but he didn't want to shoot anybody if he didn't have to (of course at this time he and Daryl had no idea of the decay the country was accelerating into). They entered the shop and Merle closed and bolted the door behind them. The auto repair shop was just like any other. There were a multitude of heavy garage doors, all shut and locked down, a manager's office, a clerk's office and six repair bays, all occupied by some vehicle in some sort of repair._

"_I'll get the keys out of the office," Merle told Daryl, "you find a vehicle that will make our best ride out of here."_

_It was agreed. Daryl began searching the shop for the vehicle which looked to be in the best running condition. There was a Camaro, but the tires were off, it looked as if it were getting a brake job. Next was an SUV, but the motor was missing. After that Daryl noticed a sedan, but the rear axil was gone, then there was the Stanley Stewart, the grip brakes and the linkage still sitting on the floor. Finally, in the remaining two stalls there was an imported, runt of a vehicle, and a white and blue pickup truck. Merle returned with the keys._

"_Ok bro, which one?"_

_Daryl looked at his brother, "Well bro, these look to be the only two that are drivable. All the others seem to be in mid repair."_

_Merle looked at the little foreign import…._

"_Well, I ain't stealing this Chinese piece of shit," he exclaimed._

"_That's a Corolla Merle, made in Japan," Daryl informed him._

"_Same difference," Merle replied, "besides, we can't load up the Stanley Stewart in the back of that turd."_

_Daryl looked at his brother…._

"_Well I guess all we're left with is this one then….," he said pointing at the white and blue pickup._

"_Great," Merle said, "looks to be a model the same age as aunt Ruthy, and she's eighty six years old."_

_Daryl was used to his brother's wise cracking remarks. Fact was, on the west side of town, in the black communities Merle was known as the "Wise-Cracker", just a pun, but humorous just the same._

_Daryl helped Merle load the Stanley Stewart up into the back of the truck. Then the older Dixon turned to his younger brother…._

"_Last chore on the agenda bro…." he pulled a wad of keys out of his pocket, "lets search all these vehicles and see if there's anything we may need before we head to Atlanta."_

_Daryl thought that to be a good idea also. He searched the SUV, and behind the rear seat found a crossbow. Daryl had never used a crossbow before, though he had used a bow and arrow during "Bow Hunting Season". He viewed the instrument, the weight was comfortable, and the stock felt good against his shoulder. There was a quiver of arrows too; Daryl counted fifteen, so the weapon seemed to be a good find. Daryl showed it to his big brother._

"_So, you think that we're returning to the medieval times little brother," Merle spoke with a smile._

"_Well,…" Daryl said, "we only have the one weapon. Besides, this might come in handy," he tilted the crossbow as if he were taking aim._

_At that moment they heard something at the back of the shop. Daryl loaded his crossbow and Merle pulled out his 45, able and ready. He pointed to Daryl that he should go right, and the older Dixon would investigate left._

"_You take that side little bro, I'll go this way."_

_The two began searching the shop as though they were CSI agents. After a while Daryl noticed a head stoop down below some auto parts, he brought the crossbow up, and to the ready, aligning it to deliver his first kill with this weapon._

"_You….come out from behind there!"_

"_Don't shoot….please, I'm still human!"_

_A girl stood up, dark hair; she seemed to be in her mid-twenties._

"_Who are you, what are you doing here," Daryl questioned?_

_She stood up, hands raised, a servant to his mercy._

"_My name's Maria Jan Foster. I came in here to get away from the Bitter Angels," her eyes showed that she was in a terrible fright._

_Daryl relaxed his gaze,"Bitter Angels", what the hell was she talking about?_

_END PART 7 _


	8. Chapter 8

_**Stand Alone**_

"_**Jan Marie"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Jan Marie "is the 8**__**th**__** chapter of the Stand Alone series. Jan Marie is just a young girl, frightened and alone. She's not sure who she can trust, but she has to trust someone. Will she trust Merle and Daryl? I never said Jan Marie was a smart girl, although she is, she is very smart.**_

_**Jan has chosen to link up with the Dixon brothers. Switching her first name around with her middle, at first, was a ploy to hide her identity, I grant you that it was not much of a ploy, but Jan wanted to maintain a thread of control of over her situation, although it may have been a weak thread. Lying to the Dixon brothers was not a big deal, like they didn't flex that attribute themselves every day. Still, when the world is falling apart around you who can you trust to deliver the truth, the government?**_

****************_ Jan Marie _*****************

_Merle Dixon and his brother were headed to Atlanta in the blue and white pickup truck which they'd stolen from Jensen's Auto Repair Garage. Between them sat a girl, her name, Jan Marie Foster. Although Merle was focused on his driving he couldn't help but reflect on the events that had led them to this point._

_He and Daryl had been in the auto repair shop just two hours earlier. Daryl had flushed out a quail (meaning Jan Marie) and told her that he would put an arrow through her brain if she didn't come clean about who she was. It was a shallow threat, but she wasn't aware of that._

"_I'm a student at Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College, down in Tifton. The campus became overrun… I was able to get away. I'm trying to get back home to Dyersburg, Tennessee. Please, don't hurt me," Jan Marie still had her hands in the air. Merle leaned in close to his brother…._

"_What'll we do bro, I sure in hell don't want to take some college muskrat with us…..she'll slow us down."_

_Although Merle's voice was low in tone, it was hardly a whisper._

"_I won't slow you down, I promise, I'll pull my weight," she said._

_Daryl began to slowly lower his crossbow. One thing that distinguished the Dixon brothers from one another was their facial expressions. Although anyone could read on Merle's face that he was pure asshole, Daryl's face was totally unreadable. Jan Marie didn't know where she stood. Daryl looked at the girl._

"_Put your hands down," he said. "How did you get in here?"_

_Jan pointed to a wooden deck constructed above the managing offices._

"_I climbed a tree on the outside, broke a window, and crawled in."_

_The two men followed her gesture. There was a small window which obviously had been busted in. The opening was tiny, just wide enough to allow a smaller person entry. The female college student looked to be maybe one hundred and twenty-five pounds, soaking wet, she could have easily crawled through the opening. The younger Dixon brother looked at her, that window was at least fourteen feet off of the ground; he was impressed with her agility to do that, she looked to be in admirably fit condition, it might not be a bad idea to bring her along._

"_Might be good to take her with us," Daryl said to his brother, then turning back to Jan, "…can you cook squirrel?"_

"_I can cook anything you need," she lied, Jan was becoming rather good at that._

_Merle approached the young woman, brandishing the Colt in his left hand so that she would not mistake his meaning._

"_Look sugar tits, we'll allow you to come with us. But the first time I hear you whining that it's too hard, you want your mommy, or you can't pull your weight….," he brought his right hand up to her temple and simulating a pistol with the hammer cocked, gestured that idea was to end her suffering, and theirs._

_Jan thought to withdraw her request to join them, but the sounds of creatures wanting to enter from the outside had her stifle her change of decision. She shook her head showing that she understood._

****************_ Answers _*****************

_So here's where they found themselves, three survivors of some untold catastrophe on their way to the big city of Atlanta, the idea was to seek the protection of a major metropolis. Gazing down the highway Merle again ventured the question of what those creatures were. It was obvious that they had been human at some point, but what were they now?_

"_I don't know Merle, maybe some kind of government experiment that got loose from Area 51 or something," Daryl said._

"_Bitter Angels," Jan mentioned, her focus, like a trance was still looking ahead. It was the first time she'd spoken since they'd left the garage. "Professor Isaac Nelson at Baldwin told me that they seemed to be corpses driven as if they'd lost something."_

"_Soul Eaters," the younger Dixon whispered._

"_Soul Eaters, Bitter Angels, don't matter what you call them. Mr. Nelson said they are driven by the consumption of living flesh. It's why they don't turn around and eat each other, or why they don't finish a meal and consume the victim completely to the bone. Once the person is dead, they lose interest. The banquet becomes mute, ain't much to their enjoyment if what's being partaken ain't kicking and screaming it's lungs out."_

_Jan looked at the faces of the men she was traveling with…._

"_Only way to actually kill them is to deliver a catastrophic injury to the brain, destroying their motor function and their ability to harbor the slightest of thought. Severing the brain stem results in the same effect, although the creature is not dead, only unable to refract motion control to the body."_

_Both men were equally impressed with Jan's intelligence. Merle expressed his admiration in the only way he knew how, blunt idiocy. _

"_Well love bumps, you're a lot smarter than my I gave you credit for," Merle was attempting to make peace with the girl. "…..the intellect in your brain is reflected in the size of those monstrous boobies underneath that tight sweater. If your brain is half as big as your northern hemispheres, I'd say that you are quite the smart girl."_

_Although she wasn't smiling outwardly, Jan knew that that was as close to a complement as a female could get from Merle._

"_Merle, you're such a charmer," she answered…._

_END PART 8_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Stand Alone 9**_

"_**Bohemian Rhapsody"**_

****************_ Flight _*****************

_It was 5pm, and they hadn't traveled far. Traveling back streets and country roads was forcing their journey to Atlanta to take much longer. However, the main thoroughfares to the city were becoming congested with traffic. Merle had decided to venture onto side avenues. The trouble with that was, after a while the truck became overheated, it soon left them alone, and stranded at the edge of the road._

"_Daryl, I thought you said this truck was in good condition?" Merle questioned his brother._

"_I did, it started didn't it? The thing is bro, I didn't look under the hood, "IT WAS" in the shop for a reason."_

_This was great, they were now stuck in the middle of nowhere, and it would be dark in a few hours. The two Dixon boys raised the hood on the vehicle; steam came rushing out in such a fog that little could be seen of the motor. Jan stood back behind the two…..when Merle shut the hood the three were surprised to see what was in front of them._

_There stood an old man, straddling a bicycle, both feet planted firmly on the ground. He gave them a smile._

"_Not a good time for car trouble do you think?"_

_The guy was wearing a Hawaiian style shirt (left unbuttoned all the way down), beneath he wore a cotton T-shirt, and the exertion from his bicycle ride had left its sweat evidence trailing down the front. On his head he wore one of those round brim military style hats, like one might see on the heads of those jungle fighters in the movies. Still, what registered the most with Jan were his smile, and his dark, friendly eyes._

"_My names' Dale, and if you don't mind me saying I think it would be a better idea if you folks joined the main flock on the highway over there, be safer, don't you think?"_

_Just his manner alone irritated Merle; the ex-con didn't like people who were polite, and he certainly didn't like folk suggesting to him what to do, it made him think that they were up to something._

"_Well grandpa, how about you let us worry about how safe we feel," Merle spoke._

_Dale's expression turned from a smile to one of concern…._

"_Hey, whatever floats your boat," he ventured, "just a friendly warning, but for your interest, I live about three miles from here, and Walkers were just beginning to advance onto my property when I left about an hour and a half ago. They can't be far down the road," (it was the first time Merle, Daryl and Jan had heard the term Walkers), Dale continued…_

"_I have a motorhome just up the interstate there, stuck in traffic. Just thought I'd get out and stretch my legs, left a friend of mine with the vehicle," he paused, " I may have an extra, half container of coolant if you…."_

"_Look pops, I know you mean well, but we ain't in need of your assistance," Merle cut him off quick. It had been only a few minutes, but Dale was already beginning not to like this guy. He put on a happy face anyway._

"_Ok just asking." He stopped and looked at Jan, "If you won't take my help, maybe you'll take a little information. There's an auto parts store about a mile down that way, if you hasten you could likely get there and back before dark," he again addressed the entire group, " I'd hate to see you and your sister stuck out here without backup tonight."_

"_She's not our sister," Daryl interjected._

"_I see," Dale said, "well your wife, girlfriend, babysitter, whatever; I'll sleep better knowing that I offered my help and advice."_

"_Duly noted there preacher," Merle said. Dale realized he could do no more…_

"… _I wish you well then" he spoke, and with this returned to his bicycle seat and was on his way._

_Daryl hadn't spoken much the entire time, not everyone understood his brother, but he did. Still Jan was upset._

"_You didn't have to be rude to the old man," she stated, "he was just trying to help."_

"_That old hoot," Merle spoke, "dressed in his Hawaiian shirt with a motorhome waiting for him on the interstate, probably some rich, retired billionaire, looking to get to Atlanta to buy his way outta this mess, Donald Trump or somebody."_

_Jan looked at the older Dixon…._

"_Merle, why are you so negative all the time, who shoved a bug up your ass?"_

_The big man stopped for a moment, he was a little taken back by his young passenger's words._

"_Well sister…."_

"_I ain't your sister, as pointed out by Daryl," she glanced at the younger Dixon._

"_Ok sweat cakes, but let me explain this to you, when you are raised by a parent that used to brutalize you every day, and it's been less than a year that you've been out of the pen, well guess I don't see myself as living in the fantasy of OZ, get the picture?"_

_The young Jan Marie Foster chocked down a reply._

****************_ Told You _*****************

_Merle and Daryl were walking to the auto parts store._

"_You know she's a good girl, you shouldn't screw with her so much," Daryl was telling his brother as they walked stride for stride towards the auto parts store._

"_She's a college bimbo, probably got a rich daddy just like Dale," Merle glanced over at his brother, "we're alone in this world bro, just you, me, and Hayden, we've got to look out for each other."_

_Daryl did not speak, but he did reach up and take ahold of the charm his brother had given him after returning from prison. If was supposed to have magical protection powers. The charm bracelet he had for their sister was still in his pocket; Merle hadn't had an opportunity to deliver it to Baby Girl. Of course neither man believed in magic, nor that the medallions really possessed any magical strength. Still it had been a gift, and that made it special alone._

_The two brothers reached the edge of a small, outdoor shopping mall. There was a pharmacy, a deli, and an auto parts store. All looked to be vacated. They started with the deli….and the tire tool Daryl had taken from the truck was the key to entering all the buildings (he had left his crossbow with Jan, cocked and ready to go, Merle had refused to leave her the Colt, felt she might turn it on him. She was still mad at Merle and had refused to go with them)._

_They ate their fill of deli delights, and bagged some stuff for Jan as well. The pharmacy was next and Merle loaded up. Last but not least was the auto store. Merle got a basket and began filling it with things they might need. Sounds from outside had both men stop and look toward the entrance._

_There were goons out there, Walkers, at least a dozen of them, the men were trapped. Merle had his Colt, but unless he made every shot count he was unsure he'd be able to put them all down. He fired as two of the Walkers began attempting to make entrance through the glass door Daryl had busted in. The metal hand grip that crossed the door kept the Bitter Angels from entering. Too, the bullets Merle put through their skulls had ceased their advance. Still, that left ten hungry Walkers biting at a chance to get to the Dixons. Merle chanced a gaze at his brother…._

"_Two bullets left…"_

_The younger Dixon looked into his brother's eyes….._

"_Well you'd better save those for us…."_

_The men knew what they had to do, make a run for it._

_The entire front of the store was glass. If Merle distracted the Walkers to one side, then Daryl could break through on the opposite side and they could get out. The younger Dixon was about to swing the tire tool whenever each heard the sound of something loud coming up the sidewalk. A blue and white streak came flying across the Walkers. Every Soul Eater was crushed or run over. A girl leaned over in a pickup truck and rolled down the passenger window…._

"_GET IN," she shouted!_

_The two men exited the store and jumped inside the vehicle, Jan then smashed the accelerator to the floor, almost as if she were trying to force it through the floorboard. Tires spun and smoke from burning rubber filled the air. The truck raced through the parking lot as if it were in the Daytona 500. Jan looked over at the two Dixon boys…_

"_Told you I could pull my weight," she smiled._

****************_ Bohemian Rhapsody _*****************

_As the three survivors drove down the road looking for a safe place to stop, Merle noticed the sound of music playing…Queens Bohemian Rhapsody. Jan had found an old music cassette in the glove box and had noticed that the truck had an old tape player. She had inserted the cassette, the song played…_

"…_Galileo Galileo…..Beelzebub has a devil put aside for meeeeeeeeeee…"_

"_What kind of fairy shit is this," Merle said._

_Jan thought to herself….. "That's just like him, I just saved his life and he's worried about the music in the cassette player. He really is a freakin hick from the sticks."_

"_Nothing like the smell of napalm in the morning," Jan spoke, "smells like….VICTORY."_

_Merle looked puzzled, but he didn't comment, Daryl had a grin on his face._

_They found a place to settle, just as the light of day was receding past the forest trees. The group felt safe, Jan began to explain…._

"_After you left, Dale returned with the coolant. Said that no matter what the asshole said, he'd feel better if he delivered what he could," she stopped to look at the two brothers, " he looked under the hood too, and found that the battery cables were corroded. Sprayed them with lubricant and tightened them down and the truck started just fine. Said he worked as a mechanic for Donald Trump at one time….."_

_Merle shot a quick glance over at Jan; she was smiling, obviously that last remark had been a joke. Daryl chuckled too, his big brother didn't like being outwitted, Daryl knew._

"_I'm gonna head out, do some hunting," Daryl said, "we had a deli bag for you Jan, but in the ruckus, it got left behind," Daryl rested his crossbow onto his hip, "time to put some meat on the table."_

_In the glow of the evening light Jan considered the young Dixon to be quite handsome, in a rugged Clint Eastwood kind of way. He seemed to be the most level headed of the two brothers, she liked him. Merle hadn't been paying much attention to either one of them really. He was busy making repairs to the Sanely Stewart._

"_Jan can you help me with this?" Merle was focused on fixing the brakes on the bike._

_In twenty minutes Daryl returned with a couple of rabbits. He started a fire and began to cook the animals over an open pit. Merle, sitting on his butt on the ground was still busy working on the motorcycle._

"_Jan, could you get me a 3/8ths box wrench?"_

_The college girl returned with the tool. Merle looked at the instrument she'd brought him…_

"…_I said a box wrench, see this, it's an open end wrench and won't work worth a crap!"_

_Jan stood back from the man…._

"_Well forged on the side it says 3/8ths, and I found it in the box, I thought it's what you wanted."_

"_Damn college educated moron, I'll get it myself," Merle stood and went to the toolbox._

_Jan began weeping, her tears falling like rain in the night. Merle was a harsh man, yet he even knew when he'd overstepped his bounds. Daryl eyed his brother in the dim firelight, and Merle could see that his expression wasn't a pleasant one. _

"_Dale offered me to come with him, but I refused," Jan said between sniffles, "you guys allowed me to come with you. I can't say enough about that, but now I'm thinking that I may have made a mistake."_

_The rest of the night was mostly nothing but silence. Daryl and Jan lay down and covered up against the cool night air. Around 1am Merle finished with the Stanley Stewart. He approached the two while they lie sleeping. He pulled the medallion he was to give to his sister out of his pants pocket. He laid it on the blanket that covered the girl. A peace offering, maybe things would be better in the morning?_

_END PART 9_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Stand Alone 10**_

"_**Big Biters" **_

_**Author's note: Starting with the previous chapter (introducing Dale) I thought that it might be fun to explore separate scenarios of how Merle may have stumbled upon certain individuals of the "Atlanta Tribe", before they became the "Atlanta Tribe". The next few chapters may encase fiction that I hope are entertaining and humorous, yet, at the same time present a degree believable works. Thank you for reading, Z**_

_**Author's second note: This chapter is a little longer than I'm used to writing, but I wanted a story readers could really sink their teeth into, pun intended.**_

****************_ You Wouldn't Like Me when I'm Angry _*****************

_Merle Dixon brought the steaming cup of coffee up towards his lips…he gazed down at the blanket where Jan Foster had lay. The cover she had used to protect herself from the nights elements rested smoothly on the ground, folded as neatly as if it had been a hospital blanket. The peace offering he'd given her just hours before (the charm bracelet) lay on top of the creased fabric. She was gone, exited their little abode sometime before he and his brother had awaken. Daryl was just beginning to stir from his slumber. He sat up and began wiping the sleep from his eyes._

"_You and Jan up already," Daryl could smell the aroma of fresh java, "she made coffee?"_

_Merle took a taste of his brew…._

"…_Hen has flown the coop little brother," _

_Daryl's eyes popped open; he quickly looked over to where the girl had settled down to sleep the evening before…there was a deserted spot on the ground next to him._

"_She's gone….you mean she left?" _

_Daryl was instantly on his feet, he did an immediate 360 degree sweep of the area with his eyes. There was no sign of her, nor any indication of the direction she may have taken. He stood with his hands on his hips, facing away from his kin. Merle could see that his brother was in deep thought; suddenly Daryl turned towards his sibling…._

"_Nice going bro," the younger Dixon spoke, "you couldn't wait to scare her away from us…." he then began kicking dirt onto the campfire, still smoldering from the night before. A move used to vent his frustration (the men did not know at this time that bright light attracted Walkers). Merle was a little humored by his brother's fancy of the girl._

_Daryl was so angry it expressed upon his face. He would never admit to anyone (let alone himself), that he instinctively saw himself as a protector, as one responsible for those with less strength around him (maybe a result of many years of watching over their little sister). He also would never admit that, although he shared a love/hate relationship with his brother, he was a lot like him. _

_Daryl looked at Merle; his brother possessed a skill, a talent for pushing people away. It manifested itself usually in the manner of harsh words and bitter phrases. The older Dixon claimed that their father was an insensitive brutalizing bastard; yet, other than family, Merle never let anyone get close to him. Guess you could say that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. _

_Daryl reached down and picked up his crossbow. He turned to glance back at Merle with a look of distain._

"_I'm going find her."_

"_Daryl…..Daryl, wait up bro…you don't even know where she is."_

_Daryl studied his brother's face …_

"_I'll start with the highway, the motorhome, and the old man you pissed on yesterday."_

****************_ Out of Gas _*****************

_He knew it had been a bad idea, but he had done it anyway, why….because he liked Anna Lee. Anna Lee Ling and he were the same age, they both attended the same college, and being Asian American, they both shared a background that had folk thinking that they originated from somewhere else, like Malaysia or something. _

_Glenn Rhee was an American…born in the U.S. of A. He had been raised to salute the Stars & Stripes and was pure citizen through and through. Still, since moving down south he humorously sometimes considered that the U.S. of A could mean, the United States of Assholes. There were folk here that thought we were still fighting World War 2, or the Civil War even. The south was like its own country, with its own rules, rituals, and traditions; however, for the most part he liked southern people._

_Glenn was originally from Michigan, he had moved to Georgia to attend college. His mother had scraped up enough money so that her son could be comfortable his first few semesters away at university, her assistance was greatly appreciated, yet "assistance" was the key word here. Glenn had to get a job to pay for the balance of his classes, and also, satisfy his rent and living expenses. Now, stranded in the middle of nowhere, the young Asian American found that he had time to reflect….._

_The night before, Anna Lee had called and requested that Glenn give her a ride to the airport. With all the chaos going on around the country all she wanted was to get back home (her father was an army captain at a base out on the west coast). Glenn had no problem giving her a ride, there was an issue with the time though, he was at work, delivering pizzas, and his shift didn't end until 11pm. It would be late before he could make it to her apartment, Anna was Ok with that, she could wait. _

_Glenn finished his shift at 11:30, and picked up his friend at her apartment. Once he and Anna reached the airport it was a mass of confusion. By the time things were settled and Anna was on a fight home it was very late. Glenn knew that he had little time to get home, he was almost out of gas and all the stations seemed to be closed. He needed to get to his apartment and rest before classes began Monday morning. Although he knew the town well, and was very versed in Atlanta proper, the outlying areas still presented a challenge to him. He had driven down a gravel road thinking it to be a shortcut back to the highway, but had become lost, and had run out of gas. It was mid-morning then he'd heard on the radio that classes for all schools in the area had been dismissed, a turn of events that worked out well, seeing that he'd been up all night and was dead tired. All he wanted now was to get home and get some sleep._

****************_ In Walks the Demon _*****************

_Merle Dixon watched as his brother headed in the direction of the highway. A thought crossed his mind, "He'll be back soon. He'll not choose that college doxy over his family." _

_That is what he'd told himself an hour ago, now he wasn't so sure. Daryl had not returned. Merle was becoming a little concerned. The first thirty minutes he had occupied himself with loading the Stanley Stewart onto the bed of the truck….alone. Then he had packed-up the campsite, the toolbox and the blankets they had slept under, and put them in the bed of the truck also. He was becoming a little stressed that his brother had not returned. There was a path directly opposite the road where the pickup truck was parked, a hunting trail, the path Dale had used when riding his bicycle. Merle knew this; he was familiar with the area. He had been in this neck of the woods several times making moonshine runs. _

_Merle thought about the area he was in, it was a location some miles south of the big city of Atlanta, and a place in the country where folk still made money the old fashioned way, no, they didn't counterfeit, they distilled it. This was an area where some of Merle's friends still made corn liquor and mash. Homesteads where folk heavily guarded their shine._

_One place Merle knew about was the Cobb family farm & distillery, a time honored, age tested America business, well, as seen locally. It was steeped in tradition and had been around for generations. There were only two proprietors remaining. Merle had been to the farm many times, the residence of which was just a mere twenty minutes away. Those folk had a unique way of protecting their assets, and their asses. Merle had to laugh when he thought about it. He looked at the hunting trail. That path was the direction Daryl had taken to acquire access to the roadway to Atlanta; it certainly was too narrow for a truck to drive through. _

_Merle, sitting in the truck's cab now considered his next option, the gravel road on which the Cobb farm was located. It was just a couple of miles away; he could cross over and make it to the highway from there. He started the engine and headed in that direction._

_In a few minutes Merle came upon a car parked on the gravel road, an import, with a pizza delivery placard on top. He was humored by the idea of finding a pizza delivery vehicle out in the middle of nowhere, he chuckled secretly to himself in the cab…._

"_Well look at what we have here."_

_There was someone standing next to the foreign car, a Chinaman, he was waving his arms. Once Merle had stopped the truck the young man walked over to the passenger side window. _

_Glenn was damn grateful that someone had stumbled upon him out in the middle of swampville. Must be a blessing from the gods…still, before he could utter a word Merle spoke first….._

"_What's up Bruce Lee?"_

_The young Mr. Rhee was taken a little off guard by Merle's blunt remark, but then he became aware of the clothing, body language, and attitude of the man sitting there, this had to be your typical country hick. The college student quickly made an assessment of his own (funny, how narrow our views are of each other)._

"_Hiya, I'm a little embarrassed, broke down during the night. You wouldn't happen to have some extra gas I could borrow?"_

_Merle looked over at the young Asian American. Was this guy for real? The country was going to shit, did he really think Merle would give him some gas? The ex-con replied in typical Merle fashion…_

"_There are two answers to that question, no and no. The first no is because I don't have any spare gas, and if I did, I certainly wouldn't give it to you. And the second no is because of the word "borrow". Borrow implies that you mean to pay it back," Merle paused, "And right now I figuring that that ain't something that's gonna happen." _

_Glenn emotions were like a rocket ship shot down out of the sky. He may not get what he wanted, but he could certainly correct this guy's rude remarks._

"_First of all, my name's not Bruce Lee, its Glenn, and secondly, I'm not Chinese I'm American, originally from Korea."_

"_Same –difference," Merle spoke as he watched the boy's face drain of hope. It was a peaceful face, innocent and naive. Merle suddenly realized that he had already made three enemies in the past seventeen hours, including his own brother, seemed the smart thing to do was to not make another._

"…_.But I have an idea, get in, I may know someone that can help you."_

****************_ Big Biters _*****************

_Merle Dixon drove down the gritty lane until a part of the road branched right. He turned the truck in this direction. After about a minute the truck came upon a large gate baring its path, a gate with a big sign on it warning, "Do Not EntR"._

_Glenn smiled at the spelling; Merle looked over at the young student._

"_Bring the gas can, we walk from here."_

_During their time together Dixon had been informing the young America about the turmoil happening in the area. Glenn had been aware that something strange going on, he'd heard the stories of the cannibalism out west, and seen it on tv broadcast, but to have something like that happening around here, it was a tad unbelievable. Anyway he did question Merle about his story._

_In front of the gate Merle stopped, "We climb over."_

_Glenn examined the fence line; it extended thirty yards into the marsh on either side._

"_Wouldn't it be easier to just walk around?"_

_Merle was already halfway over, "Trust me, this is better."_

_After climbing the gate they walked about sixty yards when Glenn noticed an old wooden cabin about forty yards distance. It resembled an old cabin but could have easily been considered a large shack. There was an old woman sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. As they approached Glenn hear her call out…._

"_Clifton! Clifton Cobb…!"_

"_Yeah, Ma," a voice came from inside the cabin._

"_Clifton come out here, and bring Henry with ya!"_

_In about two seconds there was a young man on the porch, with a rifle, a rife pointed at Merle and Glenn._

"_Gentlemen that's close enough." Mama Cobb said._

"_Morning Ma Cobb, its Merle, Merle Dixon, remember me?"_

_The old woman studied his face for a moment..._

"_Merle..? What brings you out to our neck of the woods, and who's your friend?"_

"_Just driving down the road checking on old clients, and this here is the pizza delivery boy, Jackie Chan. His car broke down just outside your property. He needs fuel to continue on his way, got any to spare?"_

_The old woman exchanged a few words with her son…_

"_Jackie, you just follow Clifton around back hon, we'll see if he c'n fix you up."_

_The two departed, but not before Glenn gave Merle a sideways glance…..._

_Alone, the older Dixon looked around and then addressed the woman again._

"_You feel safe out here Mama Cobb," he asked?_

"_Safe as Fort Knox," she replied._

"_Ain't no visitors come around, walk up to the house or anything," He questioned?_

"_Only you, and a few out in the swamp there. Didn't make it to the house though, not even close, Clifton went out and checked for them later, didn't find much though, not much left," she answered._

_Merle grinned at this, then he asked another question..._

"_Ain't frightened about what's going on the outside?"_

"_This place is like Alcatraz Merle, protected not from folk getting out, but from moonshine thieves getting in," she laughed. Merle laughed with her._

_In a couple minutes Clifton returned with Glenn, there was an unhappy grimace upon his face. He spoke to Merle…._

"_No gasoline, just diesel."_

"_You boys want some breakfast; Clifton's got pig innards on the stove as we speak?"_

"_No thank you Mama Cobb, thank you and Clifton for your efforts. We'll be needing to head back now."_

"_Ok dear," she looked at Glenn, "sorry we couldn't help you Jackie, and I'm sorry for those folk relying on you…"_

"_Pardon," he questioned?_

"_Cold pizza," she spoke …Glenn just smiled and waved his goodbyes._

_Their return trip to the truck was a bit of a giggle for Merle,_

"_Yeah funny," Glenn said, then he got serious," did you warn them about the Walkers?"_

"_Don't worry about them Mr. Chan," Merle laughed, "…this place is surrounded by Big Biters."_

"_Big biters," Glenn was confused?_

"_Yeah," Merle said, "this property is a gator sanctuary. The Cobb's run an alligator farm. Maybe them Bitter Angels like devouring human flesh, but they aren't the only ones."_

_END PART 10_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Stand Alone 11**_

"_**Waking Up"**_

_**Author's note: Backstory of Jim, from the original Atlanta Tribe. Jim has something that is haunting him. This may explain that something. A bit of a deviation from the current works, but I hope to tie it in with the storyline. **_

_**PS: Also, it is better that readers of this fic be more versed in the tv program, other than the comic.**_

****************_ Waking Up _****************

_He began walking across the bridge…..stumbling, almost zombie like. He couldn't remember much about what had happened the night before. Fact was he could barely remember his name._

_JIM, he knew that that was his first name; however that was almost all that he could remember, yet too, he knew that his head hurt, and that there was a scratch on his arm. _

_There was a group of soldiers on the other side of the bridge. Maybe military form Fort Benning, and maybe they could help him? He began to cross the causeway, but it was no short distance, seventy five yards or so. He hoped he could make the distance without passing out._

_There was a soldier on that side of the bridge, a private on guard duty, his job "goon patrol", his instructions, watch for suspicious characters approaching from the north. He spotted the man coming down the causeway._

"_Lieutenant Rollins, someone's coming!"_

_His commander joined him…._

"_Hold steady private, we don't want to kill any civilians….not yet anyway."_

_The men watched as Jim came down the bridge. He certainly moved like a goon (they were thinking) slow and robotic like. At thirty yards Lieutenant Rollins was about to give the command to fire whenever the man reached up and touched his head._

"_Hold!" The lieutenant shouted just before private Peters pulled the trigger, "….he's human."_

_During that moment Jim realized that he was in someone's line of fire. His head, causing him such pain that his world seemed surreal, and he could blank out at any moment, still, the idea that someone was about to put a bullet through his skull made him focus a little harder._

"_Please don't shoot me," he spoke. His voice echoed through his brain and caused it to throb that much more. The two military men stopped, and studied him a while._

"_Medic," Lieutenant Rollins called!_

"_Sir…!" A man came down from the end of the bridge._

"_Doc, there seems to be a civilian headed our way. Strap him up, check him out, and examine him for bites and scratches. Find out what happened, and what he knows," the lieutenant paused, he glanced back over to Jim, "Peters, go with him. If he's found to be infected, put a bullet through his eye socket."_

_Lieutenant Rollins' orders were understood, and would be executed to the full extent, no hesitation…._

****************_ Military Engagement _****************

_Fifteen minutes after delivering his command, then seeing to other things, Lieutenant Rollins returned to private Peters and his field medic, Doctor Ross. And also, the man that they were attending._

"_Ross!"_

"_Sir?"_

"_What have we got here?"_

"_Civilian Sir," the medic began….._

"_I know that he's a civilian, my question, was he bitten or scratched?"_

"_Negative, but he has been injured, maybe in an accident. Says his name's Jim, don't remember much else. Has a concussion, a rather large bump on the forehead, and a scratch on his arm. I found a shard of glass within the wound, but no bites or scratches that are goon related." The medic informed the commander._

_The lieutenant looked over the edge of the causeway where they were standing. There had defiantly been an accident on this side of the bridge, and recent. He addressed the injured man…._

"_You were in a vehicle last night Mr. Jim, your car go over the edge…..you had others with you?" The lieutenant pointed to where a part of the structure of the cement barrier of the bridge had been compromised, the structure damaged. Evidence that it had taken a hit, and something had gone over the side._

"_I don't remember," was all Jim could say._

"_Short term memory loss lieutenant," medic Ross reported, "a bruised brain, but not serious. Probably can't remember what he had for supper last night," he paused, and looking over at private Peters the medic added, as a quick joke, "or if he almost become supper last night." _

_The young medic and the private began to chuckle, however their humor was cut short by the look on the lieutenant's face._

"_Sorry sir," Ross apologized; he cleared his throat, "Likely be a few days before he regains those memories, and he may not get them all back. The blow he sustained to the head should really have him confined to a hospital bed for a day or two."_

"_You see a hospital anywhere around here Mr. Ross," the lieutenant question?_

"_No Sir."_

"_Then best thing for us to do is to get him into a vehicle headed north, to Atlanta."_

"_Agreed," the medic stated._

"_Next vehicle comes along flag them down; have them take Mr. Jim in that direction, towards Atlanta."_

_Ross saluted….then was gone._

_In ten minutes a car approached, headed in the appropriate direction. The vehicle was stopped and the lone occupant questioned as to where he was headed. He seemed nervous and didn't want to speak, only indicated that his intended path was straight down the road, in the direction of Atlanta._

"_Good," Lieutenant Rollins spoke, "Army personnel are setting up a command center there. Be good for you to make hast and get there as quickly as possible," Rollins looked over at Jim, then back through the driver's window._

"_This fellow needs a ride," he said, "bring him as far as you can, preferably some place where communications are still accessible. Be a good Samaritan, help out your fellow brother, we'd appreciate it," the lieutenant then added, "we're clearing the roads, evacuating civilians, getting them out of harm's way," he stopped and looked directly into the man's eyes,"….you do us this favor and it will help us out quite a bit."_

_The driver, still wordless, shook his head showing that he understood and was agreeable. The lieutenant bid Jim to enter the car and accompany the fellow. The officer then thanked the driver and turned to the assist in other matters of the operation, there were occasional goons still wondering up from the south._

_The driver looked over at Jim, he seemed to have a pleasant enough face. His head was bandaged and his arm was in a "wrap", but he didn't seem hostile or violent, his manner was calm and sedate. Jim did not speak, only closed his eyes and rested his throbbing brain back against the head cushion. His head was banging, his body still exhausted from lack of sleep and exertion, and the injuries didn't help; he considered that there would be time for words and talk later. He fell asleep…._

****************_ Jim's Secret *_****************

_On their way to Atlanta Jim slipped into a restless slumber, he began to dream, or maybe those dreams were his brain wanting to recover its lost memory. He remembered being in Farley's Diner & Donut Shop early one morning around 1am or so. He had fallen asleep in one of the serving booths. _

_Jim had been pulling double shifts. There had been so much chaos going on, and so many people with vehicles breaking down on the side of the road that his boss had asked him to work extra shifts. He was exhausted, but still answered the next call on his cell phone. It had been his wife, and she was near hysterical. All the neighbors were leaving, heading to the safety of Atlanta, she wanted to leave too. She had heard the horror stories of hordes of individuals breaking into people's homes, and doing all kinds of terrible things, and she was scared. She had packed a few essential and gotten the children ready to go. She wanted Jim home, and she wanted him there as soon as possible. He had done as she'd wished, gone home, gathered his family, and headed out of town. __In twenty minutes they were at a bridge crossing, a causeway expanding one side of a small lake._

_Jim didn't see the man on the bridge in the dark until his wife screamed and he was three feet from running him down. He pulled the car to the left, but not before plowing in to the guy and making a mess of their windshield. The kids were crying, his wife screaming, Jim tried to control the vehicle but in hit the concrete barrier of the bridge and busted through. __The next thing he remembered was looking out of his window. Looking out and seeing a dark pool of cold water fifteen feet beneath them. Their car was still on the bridge, but just barely. Jim's head was spinning; blood oozing down his face from where his forehead had hit the steering wheel. He looked over at his wife; she was injured too, how badly he wasn't sure. The car was balanced on the edge. The complete drivers side, both front and rear tires hanging off the causeway. The vehicle could plunge over the side at any moment. There wasn't much choice, they had to get out. He commanded that they exit the vehicle, get to the safety of the road as quickly as possible._

_His wife had opened her door, but before she could step out there were hands upon her, the children had opened their door too and other arms reached in to pull them away, they were crying and his wife screaming. Injured and confused Jim wasn't sure if the hands were there to help, or to harm. He reached into the back seat to gather his kids, keep them from being dragged out, but the restriction of his seat-belt and those hands, those awful claw-like hands were too many, and too strong. They pulled his kids and his wife away from him and right out of the car. There was a weapon in the glove box, he unfastened his seat-belt and reached to get inside, but before he could the hands returned, they came at him also. A multitude of limbs, some looking diseased, and some with terrible injuries. They came rushing in in such numbers that they jammed into the small opening of the doorway. Jim could hear them on top of the vehicle too, and they were attempting to enter into the back._

_The mass of bodies and their weight caused the car to totter, it soon spilled over the side. Jim hit the water hard, and those who'd tumbled with him fell into the drink as well. He was still inside the car, and the impact had brushed away all the creepers wanting to get inside. The vehicle sank quickly, heading straight, twenty feet to the bottom, the diver's side angled downward. Jim was able to get out through the open window of the passenger side. He swamp in the direction he believed to be the surface, the bubbles of the sinking vehicle showing him the way. Once he reached air he could see the lights of a shoreline, and he could feel the creepers pulling at his ankles trying to drag him down, he headed towards those lights._

_Jim swam for what seemed to be hours, but in reality, it could not nearly have been that amount of time. His head had sunk below the waves a couple of times, and he gulped mouthfuls of water, but he didn't stop swimming. When he reached the shore he had nothing left. He crawled onto a small beach and blacked out from exhaustion, and his injuries._

_When Jim regained consciousness the next morning the sun was up high overhead, and his head felt like it had been run over by a tow truck. His brain was still not completely without dullness, but he did realize one thing, he had swum to the opposite shore from where he believed he had fallen into the water. He couldn't remember why, or how he'd ended up in the lake? Jim could see people on the other side of the bridge. he got to his feet and headed down the causeway toward those people. He soon found them to be military, still he had little recollection of what had happened to him, or that his wife and kids had been with him. The darkness, a few hours ago still hung like a heavy mantle in his brain._

_****************__ Road to Atlanta? *_****************

_Jim awoke with a start. He was in a car, a car with a stranger at the wheel. He thought about his dream...was it a dream, or was it a horrid memory, one he did not wish to share with anyone. He may now know what had befallen him in the darkness before. He looked at the man driving the car. The fellow looked over at him._

"_Finally awake, must have been some accident that you were in. Attacked by biters?"_

_Jim didn't answer. He heard something bump in the trunk._

"_What was that," he asked?_

"_Oh you can speak. It was nothing, just some loose supplies I have back there."_

_The man glanced towards the road then returned his gaze to Jim..._

_"Look, there's a crossroad up ahead, and a place that looks to be a hometown clinic. I'm going to drop you there. They can help you, besides," he paused, "I'm really not going to Atlanta. I'm headed to meet some acquaintances in Woodbury. Likely the folk ahead can assist you with your injuries better than I can," he smiled a "trust me" kind of smile. Yet__ Jim wasn't sure that it was a smile that one could believe?_

_END PART 11_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Stand Alone 12**_

"_**Chinamen Can't Drive"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Chinamen Can't Drive", is the 12**__**th**__** chapter of the pre-apocalyptic creation of an AU-WD story arc. The sub-title, "Chinamen Can't Drive" is a play-off of a movie a few years back starring Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson, and is just used as an ironic suggestion; I hope that you enjoy the jest. This chapter does pick up very close to where chapter 10 ended. So, although I did enjoy the detour of writing chapter 11 (about "Pre- Atlanta Jim), I do hope to advance the work as a whole….and I hope that readers remain interested. Thank you for reading.**_

_**The Walking Dead is a remarkable television series. It is written in such a manner that causes people to think, not only about killing zombies, but how we would deal with one another in a post-apocalyptic world. I see it almost as a metaphor of things to come. What if the WD world were to happen, would you be ready, would you be prepared, would you survive? That is a question to ponder. I really am enjoying the creativity of the show, and I hope that you are enjoying the television series as well, Z.**_

****************_ Chinamen Can't Drive _*****************

_Merle Dixon drove his truck in the direction of the highway, there; he hoped to find his brother, Daryl. During the dive he engaged in simple conversation with the young man that he had agreed to chaperon to the motorhome of an older gentleman, someone known to Merle as Dale. Maybe Dale had some extra gas he could supply to the young Asian American, (who worked part-time delivering pizza)._

_Glenn was beginning to shine a little towards the man he knew as Merle. For a while he had considered Merle to be a rough and rugged, irritating country bumpkin. (but then Merle had a way tenderizing the human spirit. A skill of relaxing people…. Then, when they'd became more comfortable with him, he would probe for their weaknesses and strengths, which was actually his goal). _

_Merle had not spent five years of confinement within the Georgia prison system without becoming educated in some ways of human psychology. He knew how to play mind games. He understood how to get into a person's brain. His survival in the pen had depended upon it, and he had proved to be a first rate psycho-analyst, a fast learner of how the brain worked. _

_The ex-con knew how to forge people into a comfort zone, almost like a blacksmith knows how to forge metal. He would submerge them into conversation, almost like a Smithy submerges iron into a vat of a molten metal before casting it into bronze, then he would launch an abrupt query that would throw the person off balance. These sudden outbursts made the older Dixon seem brash, uncouth, and sometimes on the verge of lunacy, but Merle knew exactly what he was doing, he was well versed in covert administration. He confronted Glenn with a somewhat curt question…._

"_I thought Chinamen were supposed to be smart?" He started…._

_This caught his young passenger napping (in a nonliterary sense)….. _

"…_.driving a pizza delivery vehicle, how did you ever let yourself run out of gas?"_

_The young Rhee was suddenly interrupted by this sharp remark, not that he shouldn't have expected it, he was just caught off-guard and unprepared. Still, the pizza delivery guy was no shut-in; he had dealt with every kind of wise-cracking individual known to man…He knew when he was being played; however, he also knew that his attitude toward Merle needed to remain guarded. He did a quick study of the hillbilly…..Glenn had made his own assessments…_

_(You shouldn't label every cowboy you came across as being from Texas, or Arizona, just as you shouldn't label every hippie or flower-child you knew as being from California. Still, he asserted that Merle had a narrow imagination of the world. The young Asian American assumed that the Georgia born native had never progressed past 1950. Also, Glenn figured that Merle was toying with him (which was an accurate assumption)…. Merle was trying to elevate Glenn to a certain degree of irritation, yet the Asian American was no idiot, he was quick, quick on his feet, and quick in his thinking. He was smart enough not to fall for Merle's trick. Merle Dixon, in his way, was testing Glenn's ability to stay calm, a presumption of character. He wanted to see if Glenn could be rattled easily? A presumption that Glenn merely scoffed at, he simply ignored the first part of the remark. __Glenn had already told Merle of his ethnicity, that of American-Korean, not Chinese. Still, he would have to defend himself against the second part of the question, the inquiry of how had he let himself run out of gas? He focused intently on Merle's face….._

"_Look numb-nuts, I don't feel obligated to inform you of why I ran out of gas," he was direct, and to the point, "….but just so you know, and don't ask again, I did try to refuel, I stopped at several stations. Every one of which was either closed, or there was no attendant around to turn on the gas pumps. Don't ask me for an explanation, that's just the way it was….." Glenn felt satisfied with his answer. Merle studied the young American for a moment. He cracked a smile as he looked at his passenger. __Glenn had referred to him "numb-nuts", Merle actually liked that the young American was willing to fight back. He had more respect for a person that exhibited a little backbone; it told him that they were willing to fight. _

_Merle wasn't the kind of guy that coddled weakness. He was more a fellow that respected action. If he could beat you down with his intellect, or physical ability then you were just defeated. But if you fought back and shown him that you were not an imbecile, then you gained his respect, it was a presumption of Merle's nature._

"_Look Glenn," Merle began to express..., "I don't know what you believe about these diseased mummies…."_

_Glenn was actually surprised that he remembered his first name…., Merle continued…_

"…_but I've seen them up close and they are real. The news broadcast seen on tv doesn't compare to actually seeing the creatures for real? I surely understand why those employees at those gas stations where gone. They had checked out, flown the coup, cashed in their chips, whatever you want to call it," Merle's eyes remained focused on his passenger's face, "can you blame them? With those creatures running around, do you think those folk were going to stick around to manage a "Quick Mart" for minimum wage? My bet is that they're headed for the safety of Atlanta's multiplex, the protection of the big city. They were scared out of their wits and were looking for the army's protection."_

_For whatever reason that made sense to the young Asian American. Glenn considered the attitude that Merle wasn't such a dill-wad after all, maybe he was more human than Glenn figured him to be? _

_Merle was a paradox, but then, maybe that suggestion should be made to include everyone?_

_END PART 12_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Stand Alone 13**_

"_**Blown Away"**_

_**Author's note: Story subtitle, "Blown Away" tells a little about the Dixon family, and explains their actions a bit. It was inspired by the Carrie Underwood song "Blown Away". That song so fits the story world of the Dixon family, it is somewhat of a reflection of why things are the way they are. Daryl Dixon, Merle Dixon, Hayden Dixon, Iris Dixon and Greg Dixon (mother and father of the Dixon clan) are character represented and explored. I hope that you find the work interesting, and also I hope is that it sits well with the creators of this fantastic show, thank you for viewing, Z**_

****************_ Blown Away _*****************

_Daryl Dixon was walking down a game trail, or hunting trail, bike trail, or hiking trail, it really made no difference what someone wanted to call it. It was actually known as "Cedars Path", a trail through a forested area not too distant from Atlanta. However, that being said, this wooded location was secluded …and not very far away from Atlanta proper (or its suburbs). Still, its distance allowed a measure of impunity from firearms regulation. Meaning that the discharge of weapons was allowed, as long as guidelines were followed, and an individual did not stray from breaking the rules. Also hunters needed to stay within the limits of the posted signs that were about._

_These regulations actually presented no problem for Daryl, one reason being that his new best friend…and weapon of choice now, had become the Reynolds 180 Lance-Master Crossbow. A weapon of supreme accuracy, and an instrument of death in the hands of a skillful craftsman (or craftswoman)….it was assembled from the finest materials and its arrows could pierce the body of a squirrel or rabbit even at a distance of seventy yards._

_Daryl had a fondness for the weapon, and a fondness for Jan Foster, the girl he was searching for. He was still aggravated at Merle for running her off, even though he knew his brother to be somewhat of a social introvert, (meaning that Merle was shockingly afraid of allowing people to get close to him, other than his family), maybe a result of being locked up in prison for so long a time?_

_Daryl didn't have the time or desire to ponder his brother's social skills, or lack thereof, his focus now was on finding Jan. He was an excellent tracker; his linage included Native American ancestry, on his mother's side, Cherokee._

_Iris Dixon had raised her children the best that she could, considering the circumstances and the abusive situation she was in. Her husband was a cruel and unhappy man; he punished her and his children during his wild, alcoholic rampages… that was until the day Merle fought back. By then it was too late for Iris, the Dixon children knew that their mother was long gone, having relented to the drink herself. Before that time she had taught her youngest son many things, one, to be proud of himself and his heritage, and also to look out for his sister, and also Merle, who was constantly getting into trouble. _

_Daryl had been the only one home when she had passed. He harbored a guilt thinking that he should have done more to help with her bouts of depression, a depression that finally lead to her end. It made him consider that he would never leave anyone behind again. His eyes began to water, and a tear slowly slipped down his left cheek, he wiped it away and glanced around in a fit of embarrassment, but who would be around to see him?_

_Daryl had been very close to his mother, he now wanted to think of the happy times, the times when she had taught him about nature, and being out in the woods. His mom had spoken much about the plants and animals, how they were God's gift and should be respected and appreciated even though they provided our tables with food. She taught him about flowers, in particular the "Cherokee Rose"…and the history of this beautiful gift. The "Cherokee Rose" was a flower named for the Cherokee mothers, during the "Trail of Tears". A time when the Cherokee tribes were driven off of their lands, and into the confinement of safe zones….ironic now, it seemed as if the same thing was happening, only the living were being corralled by the dead, herded into areas for a neat and varied banquet. An idea for thought._

****************_ Fresh Kill _*****************

_Daryl returned his attention to finding Jan, yet there was little evidence to be found of her. He had found some shoe-prints near a sign that had been posted. Prints small enough to be Jan's; however it was not certain if they were hers, they could be anyone's. He looked up at the sign; it read "No Hunting Past This Point". He assumed that he was getting close to a roadway, maybe a quarter mile or so, still the disturbing part of looking at the sign was seeing that it had the imprint of a bloody hand on it, a hand small enough to be Jan's._

_Suddenly Daryl heard a sound behind him….he quickly turned, but found nothing there. He searched the tree line but there was no sign of movement. He was about to return his attention to the sign whenever he spotted something, a leafy lump on the ground maybe thirty feet away off the paths edge, it looked to be a body. He prayed that it would not be the woman that he had been looking for, he hoped it wasn't Jan. Still, he knew that he had to investigate. He approached slowing, and discovered that it was not, it was a man, a hunter, his body covered in blood. There were leaves caked to the corpse, stuck to the dried blood. He lay face down, but even from this position Daryl could see what had caused his death. His flesh had been stripped away to the bone from the knees down, Walkers? Daryl rolled the hunter over onto his back; it was then that he noticed that the man held a rifle within his grip. His fingers wound so tightly around it that they were literally a death grip. The young Dixon was reminded of one of the popular NRA slogans, "You can have my gun the day you pry it from my cold, stiff fingers"._

_Meaning no disrespect Daryl smiled and reached down, "Sorry buddy but I think that day has arrived."_

_He did feel a bit uneasy making humor at the expense of the dead; however it was not as if he were hurting anyone's feelings. Still, as if the corpse had been listening, it refused to relinquish control of the rifle. Daryl began to pull at each finger, individually, in an effort to get them free. At that moment he heard another sound behind him, he swirled around to see what it was. There not ten feel away stood a Walker, actually he was not standing, he was upright, but moving. His left hand clutched at his chest showing were a bullet wound had been inflicted, yet his right arm was stretched outwards towards Daryl. The Walker's approach increased in speed, as if it knew a meal was only steps away. Daryl had time only to raise his crossbow and deliver an arrow to the forehead (he remember Jan saying head-shots were what killed the creatures).It fell flat upon his face just short of reaching him. In the same instant he felt something tugging at his leg. He looked down to witness the hunter attempting to bite his ankle. The hunter had turned into a Walker._

_How long did it take for someone bitten to become a walking dead? Daryl hadn't the answer. He restrung his crossbow and got ready to deliver the only brand of mercy that he knew how, and he hoped the undead could understand, well, they could if their brains weren't cluttered with the overpowering desire to feast on living flesh all the time. _

"_Sorry bro…..," he said. Daryl leveled his weapon at the creature's skull, "but I think this is the way you'd want it." _

_The arrow was released and soon the walker's head was pinned to the ground. Daryl retrieved his arrows, and the rife, then continued down the path. He made it to the edge of the forest, still there had been no indication of Jan Foster. As he reached the roadway he was nearly flattened by the sight that came to his eyes. As far as one could see, headed in the direction of Atlanta, there were a string of vehicle all stalled on the highway. It was really a scene to behold._

"_What, Atlanta hosting Dragon Con again this year, or is Jesus delivering a speech at the Cobb Center," Daryl grinned at his own joke. In the distance he spotted a motor home, was it Dale's, maybe Jan was there? He headed in that direction._

_END PART 13_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Stand Alone 14**_

"_**Gas Guzzlers & Leprechauns"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Gas Guzzlers & Leprechauns" is the 14 chapter of the Stand Alone series. Synopsis: Community authorities are put on alert, and are tasked with applying solutions to prohibit people from stealing. Of course the social structure, for a while now, has been deteriorating, so we are well past that. Still the world needs some kind of order if humanity is to survive. Small groups of people are already forming up in certain areas, and are constructing their own order, their own rule, which sometimes doesn't mix with the way things used to be. Secret dialogue and Code words and are being used by the military and police in an attempt to maintain control, but is it enough?**_

****************_ Road to Atlanta_*****************

_Merle and Glenn made their way to the roadway leading into Atlanta. Merle's idea was to find the motor home of the old man who had offered assistance to him the day before. Dale seemed so willing to help him, his brother and Jan, that maybe he would be willing to spring some gas for Glenn. Once Glenn obtained fuel, he could make his own way back to his pizza delivery vehicle. Merle had no plans for taking Glenn back to his car. The "lightly" spoken agreement was to help him find gas, not return him to the gator farm once he'd been supplied. Also, during his search for Dale, Merle could continue searching for his brother as well. _

_That was the plan, however, when Merle and Glenn reached the highway they were shocked by what they found. From horizon to horizon, the inbound lane to Atlanta was choked with cars. That is cars, trucks, SUV's and every sort of vehicle that one could think of. This was the reason why Merle had chosen to take back roads to enter the city in the first place. _

_Some vehicles were puller over onto the grassy sides of the highway, while others were stalled right on the roadway itself, and some even looked to be abandoned, or were broken down and needed repair. It made no difference, traffic was stalled, and no one was moving an inch._

_Merle looked down the outbound lane leading away from the city. There were no cars, it was completely clear all the way to where he could see the tall buildings of Atlanta's high-rises, far in the distance. Why weren't folk moving over and entering the city from the outbound lane? It seemed that that would be the smart thing to do? Merle, for now, hadn't time to think on the matter. He didn't know the reason, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let anything stop him from taking full advantage of an open roadway._

_He took his vehicle onto the outbound lane. He began traveling towards Atlanta in the wrong direction. After about a quarter mile he and Glenn did see a motor home stuck in traffic. Merle pulled his vehicle over to its left flank. He parked and approached the vehicle on foot from behind. He motioned Glenn to follow, and bring an empty container with him. _

_As they approached the multitude of cars, a man leaning against one of them spoke to them._

"_Hey numb nuts you're not supposed to be using that lane," he spoke (it was Ed Peletier). Merle glanced over at the guy. _

_Merle was no small-ass man, and he was in far better shape than this guy. Also, having been an inmate, Merle was used to confrontation. He studied Peletier, and in a brief instant deduced that the he was a wimp, someone who bullied others if he could. Merle knew how to deal with guys like this….._

"_#&$% …you asshole," it was a plain and simple response, yet Merle's intimidation manner was enough to shut his pie hole. Ed said nothing else._

_Merle and Glenn approached the motor home. At the entrance the big man without hesitation, opened the door. He and Glenn both noticed a man sitting behind the steering wheel, it wasn't Dale, but Merle did recognize the fellow._

"_Jim?"_

_Jim (Merle didn't know his last name), was a guy from the same area as he, and all he knew about the fellow was that he was a top-notch mechanic, and had worked for a competing auto repair shop in their hometown. Merle's boss, at the auto shop, had tried to hire him away from the competition many times, but had never succeeded._

_There he sat, in the driver's seat. _

"_Jim, I didn't know Harley Harp paid so well that you could afford a motor home?"_

_The mechanic looked at the man standing in the entryway of the motor home. Jim knew that he knew Merle, he just couldn't remember how?_

"_It's not mine; it belongs to a man named Dale. I'm only a passenger," he replied._

_So, this was the right vehicle Merle thought. He looked around but there was no sign of the old man._

"_So, where is he," Merle questioned? Jim pointed towards the city…_

"_Someone's car broke down, up the road a piece; he took his tool box to see if he could help."_

_That sounded exactly like Dale. Always willing to pitch in and be the Good Samaritan, Merle hated him. The older Dixon held an opinion that no one did things for free, out of the goodness of their heart, the world just wasn't that way. He looked over at Glenn….._

"_I'm going to take the truck and go find Dale; you hang here with Jim until I get back."_

_Glenn acknowledged that he understood._

****************_ Gas Guzzlers & Leprechauns _*****************

_Merle returned to his truck. In a minute he was back on the roadway headed towards Atlanta. He kept glancing over to the inbound traffic looking for Dale; so far he hadn't located him. _

_Merle's focus was so tuned into looking for the older man that, for a time, his senses missed the flashing red and blue lights in his rearview mirror….then he noticed, and grimaced…._

"_Shit, even with the country in crisis I can't get away from being harassed by the law," he spoke. He pulled over to the side of the road. To his surprise the squad car zipped past him. He sat there perplexed, yet, in a millisecond (looking through his open window) he realized they had not been after him, that their concerns ran deeper. He was stunned by what he noticed following behind. There were two military vehicles (carrying about a dozen troops each), and two flatbed diesels, carrying two heavy military tanks. What the…#&$%... was going on? _

_Merle sat confused, but then he realized that this was a convoy, an attachment headed towards the city to beef up the authority's presents there. Now he understood why other vehicles were not allowed to travel this pathway. It was a reserve road for the military, a corridor to the city being used to steam military operations, kept open and controlled by the powers that be, they were transferring strength._

_As the trucks and tanks made their way past him, Merle witnessed the last patrol car in the convoy pull over. It reined in right behind him, lights flashing; it seemed that he was not totally out of trouble for his misdeed after all, reparation was to be sought. _

_Merle waited for the officer of the stopped squad car to approach. He sat there with his hands on the steering wheel, in plain sight. He heard a car door slam, and then there was the sound of someone removing his "law-issued" police weapon from its holster. He waited for the words that he knew would come, "Place your hands on the steering wheel please", which he had already done. Instead he heard words he never expected to hear in a million years._

"_Well, I'll be a pimple on an inmate's ass."_

_Merle turned to see who had spoken such an odd reframe. There stood Deputy Barney, the policeman who he had encountered after the theft of the red mustang convertible years ago (the time Daryl had covered his ass). The Deputy stood there, weapon drawn not four feet away. _

"_Merle Dixon….?" Barney was just as surprised as Merle, "What the hell are you doing here," he questioned, and then added almost as an afterthought, "looking for red Mustang convertibles to steal?"_

_It took Merle about a millisecond to recover. But his brain was quick, as quick as any man's he'd encountered. His rebuttal was full out witty, just as the officer's had been._

"_Deputy Barney, fancy meeting you here, " He began, " Nope, red Mustang convertibles are not my cup of tea anymore," Merle spoke, " my color of choice, blue now, "he spoke. _

_Merle wasn't stupid; he could inject smart ass remarks as quickly as he received them, (One doesn't spend five years in prison without developing a quick response to stupid inquisition). If the law authority wanted to play mind games, even during an apocalypse, he was happy to comply. Merle then added a bit more to the exchange…_

"_Actually I'm looking for my brother….."_

_Deputy Barney looked at him..._

"_Daryl….he around here also?"_

"_I think so," Merle answered, "we became separated." _

_The Deputy's demeanor lightened a bit. He had already holstered his weapon and walked closer to the truck. _

"_Merle, some advice," he said, "Atlanta is a bad choice. The north side of the city is already overrun by goons. By nightfall the whole place could be gone. Best you find your brother and get out." Barney looked up and scanned the ribbon of vehicles all stranded on the inbound lane, "All these folk are at risk," he spoke, "we might be able to turn things around, but I doubt it. The authority is pulling forces in from the smaller communities," he paused, "right now I'm on Gas Guzzler and Leprechaun patrol."_

_Merle was confused, he wasn't sure if he'd heard Barney right….._

"_Gas…..what?"_

_The Deputy looked back down at Merle. He hadn't even realized that he'd spoken it._

"_Gas Guzzler and Leprechaun patrol," he repeated, then explained, "There are folk around taking fuel from abandoned cars, or are actually attempting to steal it from people they see as weak. Their plans are to sell the fuel later at high profit, when it becomes short in supply, Gas Guzzlers, their code name. Also there are the Leprechauns, folk who are found just wandering around out in the woods, usually delusional. Still they haven't been goonified so we take them in. They are so happy to be found that they usually want to give you something, a watch, a ring, money. That's why they're referred to as Leprechauns."_

_Barney continued looking at Merle, his expression becoming bleak..._

"_I know its sounds crazy, but hasn't the whole country become crazy in just a few weeks? Find your brother, get out of town. I think your chances will be better," Deputy Barney concluded his sermon. _

_END PART 14_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Stand Alone 15**_

"_**Night of the Apocalypse"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: Night of the Apocalypse", the burning begins…**_

****************_ Daryl _*****************

_Daryl Dixon was just about to exit from the hunting trail on which he had been traveling (while searching for Jan) when he noticed a police car driving by on the highway (cross-manner to his direction). It proceeded down the roadway, from Atlanta, at a high rate of speed. Since he had not exited past the tree line, the idea in his head was, that they had not seen him? Still, the better choice could be to lose the weapons he was carrying, at least for a time. Likely it was a good idea not to be witnessed exiting the woods with a crossbow in hand, or a rifle strung over his shoulder, people may think him a loon. Daryl staged his gear next to a tall tree, (to be recovered later) and then turned his gaze again to the road. It was at that time that he noticed a truck in the wake of the patrol car. Daryl recognized that truck, it was the one taken by him and his brother from Jensen's garage, the driver had to be Merle!_

****************_ Night of the Apocalypse _*****************

_Merle Dixon was being escorted back to Dale's motor home by Deputy Barney. The officer had also informed him that Atlanta may not be as safe a refuge as folk were being lead to believe. Goons had infiltrated the north side._

_William Barney had been a semi-friend of the Dixon family for some time. He had had a crush on Merle and Daryl's sister for years. Being from the south, he knew that hometown boys never lost their connection to one another, no relation, but almost like cousins. He had told Merle that goons were overrunning the northern sector of the city. And that maybe, by nightfall the tide might become irreversible. He also stated that his duty was to keep the outbound lane from Atlanta clear. Open for the military to convey troops and equipment back and forth, ferry support tolerance to the troops already stationed within the city._

_Another of the Deputy's duties was to patrol the roadway enforcing the law. Not to let the masses of refugees become unruly and despondent. They were to be herded like cattle (in a manner of speaking), either into, or away from the city, upon orders. _

_This was taken by Merle to mean that the military was starting to establish control, maybe not over the Walkers, but over the civilian population. If there were to be survivors of this catastrophe, it would be the ones chosen by the government. Merle knew how to think ahead. Although he knew that the Armed-Forces' doctrine was devotion to country, "Protect and Serve All", in certain scenarios this was unfeasible. In certain cases the few would have to be sacrificed, burned for the many, meaning that if several thousand people were saved, at the cost of a few hundred, then the mission would be deemed a success._

"_Do you know what a task that is Merle? Do you have any idea what folk will do in the face of a deteriorating society?" Barney prompted a question, then without hesitation delivered the answer….."They loot, rape, attack, and cause injury to their neighbor. Just for power and just to fill their own needs. I can't tell you how many fights I've had to break up, or how many disputes I've had to settle….." the disillusioned officer at that point had seemed to stared off into space. Merle realized the surreal stare in his eyes. _

_Barney may not have been aware (although he had known that Merle had spent some time in the pen), but the older Dixon boy wasn't a newly hatched chicken, he had stumbled around the coup a bit. Merle could have told William how people would respond. He had not spent five years in the West Georgia Correctional Institute without learning something. As an inmate, he had witnessed most every atrocity known to man. He was well aware of what humans could do to one other, even before their backs were against the wall. He had seen it with his own eyes._

_Merle noticed as Barney, in the car ahead of him, flagged him to Dale's motor home. Yet, the Deputy did not stop, he continued onwards; likely he had received a call about a dispute somewhere down the road apiece. Merle reined in next to the motor home along the grass median. It was beginning to become midafternoon, maybe three or four hours before it would become early evening._

_Merle exited his vehicle and approached the motor home. He was greeted by Glenn, who had a full can of gas, and Dale, who was smiling and whom he'd not seen since the day before, and Jim too was there, standing center highway. The four men conversed, and in less than two minutes Daryl had joined them. It was a reunion of sorts, the five men stood there like fishing buddies, just as if they stood there speaking of the days catch, but then Merle took the reins._

"_Look, I've just spoken to someone of the law authority. He tells me that Atlanta is a lost cause. Likely be barbequed steak before sundown. His advice is to turn and head away from the city."_

_The four other men were frozen on the spot._

"_You mean to tell me there's no chance for us in Atlanta," Dale questioned?_

"_None," Merle concurred._

_Merle looked around. He wasn't sure his message was believed._

"_So, what we spoz to do bro, turn tail and haul ass?"_

_Merle looked at his brother…._

"_That's exactly what I'm saying."_

_The whole mob was a bit confused. They had been told by the authority to sit still until Atlanta opened up, yet here was someone telling them to leave. They put more trust in government leadership, over what Merle had to say._

_ After viewing every face in the crowd, Merle again turned to his brother, "You with me Daryl," he questioned?_

_For a full twenty seconds Daryl did not respond. After all, relation or not, this was the man who'd run off Jan, the person he'd been hunting for. Still, he could not fault every bit of it on his brother._

"_What about Jan," he asked?_

"_Jan?" Dale spoke, "She showed up here about 9am, injured."_

"_Bitten," Daryl quizzed?_

"_No, broken ankle, was chased through the woods by Walkers, said a hunter came to her rescue."_

_Daryl knew now what exactly had he was talking about._

"_Where is she," he queried?_

"_Taken to one of the surgical tents in Atlanta…. by a patrol car," Dale said, "She's likely in better shape than we are," he spoke._

"_That's a matter of opinion," Merle spoke, "she also closer to the Walkers. What's say we blow this joint bro," he said looking at Daryl. "Don't want to make ourselves ready for a zombie feast," Merle didn't care what the others thought. Daryl was blood, Merle may be an asshole, but he did care about his family._

****************_ The Phoenix Burns Again _*****************

_That night, as three thousand, three hundred, and thirty seven people, stalled along one of Atlanta's main thoroughfares watched, forces of the United States military napalmed the south side of Atlanta, Georgia. Dixie was burning again. The flame rising well into the night sky, but something the folk of this southern city did know, was that cities of the north were burning as well._

_There, among the people nestled in the hills witnessing the event was a couple, a man, and a woman, her name Lori Grimes and his, Shane….Shane Walsh._

_End Part 15_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Stand Alone 16**_

"_**Shore Party"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: The Merle Dixon Story" continues…..**_

****************_ Shore Party _*****************

_From his perch, well above the streets of Atlanta a young American male looked down upon a sight that almost made his skin crawl. He had just witnessed a man, a police officer of some sort; gallantly ride his steed down the street as if he were a cowboy riding his horse into Tombstone. Who did he think he was, Kurt Russell or somebody? Maybe he thought he was Clint Eastwood, riding his horse into the town of an old western movie? He watched as the lawman had ridden his mount right into the onslaught of a zombie horde, a brigade of creeps. The officer had gotten away, (finding refuge inside a military tank)…while the horse had not fared as well._

"_What an idiot," Glenn whispered to himself thinking of the law officer._

_As he spoke he watched as the poor animal, in which the man had rode into town, was pulled down and ripped apart by zombie claws. The pale-chocolate beast, once a beautiful creature, began screaming in its torture of being eaten alive, its death whinny echoing off of the façade of tall buildings, buildings of a city that had once been known as the "Phoenix of the South". Those structures were now abandoned; their occupants once dressed in corporate suits and skirts had joined the ranks of the trodden, the unrested, the dead, the walking dead. Soulless shells of individual's that now wondered the alleyways and corridors of Atlanta, scouring the city flesh, living flesh to consume, flesh that still contained the remnant of warm blood. It made Glenn sick to his stomach to watch the animal being eaten alive. It made him want to vomit….and he would have, had he anything in his stomach. He, like the rest of the "shore party" had not eaten a decent meal for some time now. The group was hold up in an abandoned rock quarry and he, and some of the clan had come into Atlanta in search of provisions._

_Glenn Rhee, one of the survivors of the Zombie Apocalypse had taken refuge, along with others, in an isolated area just to the northwest of Atlanta, Georgia. He was part of a "shore party" which had covertly entered into the city looking for anything of value. He metaphorically thought of the group of people that were with him as a "shore party", abandoning the safety of their ship in order to venture into a place of danger. Sometimes he thought of himself as the only person in the country who had retained a sense of intellect. He had told those folk not to come with him. That the city was dangerous, but they had not listened. One of them had insisted that he bring them along, that person's name, Merle, Merle Dixon._

"_Merle, what an asshole," Glenn thought to himself. He had met the older Dixon brother when Merle had come upon him two weeks ago on a county road a few miles outside of Atlanta. Merle had helped Glenn at the time, had given him a ride to the highway to assist him in finding fuel for his pizza delivery vehicle. That was when they'd found that the southern highway leading into the city was choked with refugees, the route impassible. It had been filled with abandoned cars and folk just standing around waiting for someone to take charge, someone to take command, someone to tell them what to do. In a way Merle had been that man, he was a "take charge" kind of guy, well, at least when there was something in it for him to gain._

_Merle had told by a deputy friend of his brother's that the city wasn't safe. He had convinced Daryl that they should attempt sanctuary somewhere else. They had taken their truck, left the highway and headed back the way they'd come, Glenn had stayed with Dale and Jim. That night when the city was firebombed Glenn Rhee lead a group of about thirty individuals back down that same path. They had overtaken Merle and Daryl who'd stopped to camp for the night. That was when Merle had led them to the quarry. The group had basically posted camp there. Everyone was waiting on word from the authority on what to do. That word would never come._

_Now, almost two weeks later there seemed to be a struggle going on. A power play between Merle and another strong willed individual of the group named Shane Walsh. The men were at odds most of the time, but Glenn could see the chain of leadership slipping more into Shane's favor. They were running out of supplies. Glenn had made several trips into the city, on his own, and had returned with consumables, but it was not enough. Some of the people said that they wanted to go with him._

_Glenn had told the "Atlanta Clan" that the city wasn't safe. That with his knowledge of its streets and avenues it was better for him if he ventured into town alone, but they hadn't listened. Merle wanting to show that he was a better leader than Walsh, and had insisted that he, and a few others accompany Rhee into downtown Atlanta. With them tagging along more supplies could be carried back, and it was considered an acceptable risk by many of the group. It was also thought to be a clever move on Merle's part. The older Dixon had gotten a rifle from his brother Daryl, one taken from a hunter out in the woods, and he had said that he would use this to protect the "shore party"._

_This is how Glenn came to be the scout of an entire group of vagrants. Feeling a responsibility for their safety and sensing of obligation that he return each of them back to the quarry pit alive and unharmed. Not only that, but now he found himself in the position of saving another soul who'd wondered into town. Glenn thought that he should just close his eyes; pretend that he hadn't witnessed the fellow crawl under the tank. He could turn away and pretend that it had only been a vision, a trick of the brain brought on by the weakness of an empty stomach. But he did not close his eyes, or turn away. When he noticed that the man hadn't been bragged out from beneath the vehicle Glenn realized that maybe he'd found a way in, through the underbelly of the tank. He could just allow the office trapped inside to die? Maybe allow his life to end by starvation or heatstroke? But Glenn was a man of conscious. _

_The youngest child of a family that consisted of a mother and elder sisters, the young Mr. Rhee had been raised with some merit and some mindfulness of the human condition. He knew that if he let this man die, then he would be no better than the beasts that crawled upon the metal shell of the military war machine. He knew that he would regret that decision for an eternity. He pulled out a hand-held radio from his pocket and began to speak…_

"_Hey you…..dumbass, yeah you inside the tank…..comfy in there….?"_

_Glenn regretted saying the words as soon as they had exited his mouth, yet he was still upset with the man for letting his mount be eaten alive. Yet he would make an attempt at saving the fellow's life._

_END PART 16_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Stand Alone 17**_

"_**A Lifeboat Surrounded by Sharks"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone" chap 17. **_

_**High above the streets of a city infested with the undead, Rick Grimes and Merle Dixon begin their relationship with a bang (meaning that they both fire their weapons in the city, attracting Walkers to their position), and upon introduction, swap punches to the head. What quicker way to become acquainted…right :)**_

_**I have total respect of Robert Kirkman, creator and inspiration of "TWD" series. All "Walking Dead" fan-fiction posted by this author, on this site, is credited totally to the folk that created that spark. I can only hope that I do them the tiniest bit of justice in this endeavor, thank you for reading, Z. **_

_**PS: the next few chapters follow the story arc of the tv series. I will attempt to follow the path of the show… although I hope it is understood that there will be liberties taken (i.e. introducing new people, new situations, and divulging a bit into the minds of certain characters). Now onward...**_

****************_ King County Deputy; Rick Grimes _*****************

_Rick Grimes had just "rung" his own bell, not intentionally mind you, but he'd been forced into action, forced into getting the job done, and done quickly, his life had depended upon it. He had just blown the brains out of a soldier's head; said individual was the tank commander of a vehicle he'd found marooned in the streets of Atlanta Georgia. Inside that vehicle he had taken refuge, refuge from the masses of walking corpses he'd stumbled onto, and who, with their ravenous hunger, were now __outside his fortified structure. He had been horrified to know that the animal he'd rode into the city on was being devoured alive, it had been sacrificed, but if he hadn't moved quickly, he would have suffered the same fate._

_The Deputy's ears were still ringing from firing the Beretta inside the steel enclosure of the vehicle, which was what caused him to question the transmitted voice coming over the radio. He wasn't sure if it were real, or just his mind playing tricks? Was he becoming a prime candidate for a mental ward?_

"_Hey you…..dumbass, yeah you inside the tank…..comfy in there….?"_

_Was the ringing in his ears causing him the imagine things, or was he going totally insane? Deputy Grimes took microseconds to contemplate whether this was true….._

_Awakened in a hospital to a world gone mad, the King County Sheriff's Deputy had truly thought that he had died and had entered into the afterlife. Rick had imagined that he may have been delivered to the first level of Dante's Inferno. He had never been a religious man, so to speak; but he supposed that he did believe in God, a Creator. However, Rick had responsibilities that took precedence over his life or anything else in the universe. That importance was to provide for the health and safety of his wife and his son. Those two individuals took focus above any Deity or God that he'd never seen._

_Morgan and his son, Duane, had been the first people whom he had been able to grasp on to. The first people that had proven to him that he was still alive, that he had not fallen victim to death, that by some miracle he was still breathing. Still he had awaken from his psychosis to a horror worse than death? To be living yet exposed to a world of walking undead…..was that living at all? _

_Morgan and Duane had convinced him that he wasn't in a hell, that he had actually opened his eyes to a concrete reality. They believed themselves that the country had gone mad. Morgan believed that time was not progressing forward, but had taken a detour south. He believed that the world was being cleansed, cleansed of its wickedness by a Creator that had caused an epidemic, a sign to the remaining people that they had lost his favor. There was a way back, although it lie through the Seven Hells. Morgan WAS a religious man, he had strengthened his resolve by prayer. God would save him and his son, and by virtue of his belief somehow find a way to cure his beloved, his faith, the woman that he cherished with all of his heart, the lady now traveling the path of the "Walking Dead". He believed that God would deliver her back to him._

_Morgan had explained to Rick that the town had been infected with some sort of virus or plague. What or who had caused it was unknown, as far as the rest of the country, or the world for that matter, the boundaries of the plague were unknown. Atlanta, he had been led to believe, was clear. For certain, the area they were living in was infected. Gone crazy with the disease, crazy with a nightmare that was only too real. _

_For a time Rick had enjoyed the company of the only two people he knew to be still human, but there came a time for that to be over, a time for him to begin his search. Lori and Carl, were they still alive? Of that question, of course, he was determined to find the answer. He left Morgan and Duane in the little town and headed to Atlanta, a town where now he had been accosted by the undead. He had now found shelter inside of a tank, still, it was only a quick solution. He needed a lifeline, a way to get out of this mess. Maybe Morgan had been right, the short prayer Rick had muttered to himself had resulted in a radio transmission. Had God answered his prayer? He assumed that the caller on the radio had been sent to help..._

_Rick grabbed the radio, the voice on the other end gave him instructions….it told him where to go, and what to do. _

"_Who are you," he questioned?_

"_Have you been listening…your time is running out."_

_Rick was determined to follow the instructions. In a few moments he would know whether he was a total psycho, or had been talking to his savior. He raised the hatch and bolted out of the tank…_

****************_ A lifeboat surrounded by sharks _*****************

_Merle Dixon aimed his high-powered rifle at a Walker of choice. Standing way-atop a department store building he had told the members of his group that he would post sentry on the roof of the building and would not fire a shot unless he had to, and only for their protection of course. He did not plan on disturbing the peace, or whipping the Walkers into a frenzy, like feeding fish, or feeding sharks rather, and cause them to attack. Yet that peace had been broken by shots fired in the distance, not by him mind you, but by someone else. He had no idea who had rang the dinner bell, still it allowed him the freedom to pull his own trigger. The undead were beginning to swarm. Walkers, like sharks, were beginning to encircle their building, their lifeboat. Merle considered that they (the undead), like sharks, consumed flesh by taking big bites out of people, then swallowed the chunks down whole, they deserved to die._

_Now, with gunfire already echoing throughout the city streets, he could start a ruckus and not be blamed for starting this upheaval, someone had already done that. He looked down the rifle scope and pulled the trigger of his weapon. The discharge sent a high velocity round through the head of some poor creature seven stories below. The Walker's head exploded as if it were a melon hit by a sledgehammer, Merle laughed. While standing on the ledge he glanced over his shoulder and spoke to the man standing several feet behind him._

"_Hey T –dog, do you know what they call Walkers in wheelchairs…."the crazy southern boy asked as he took aim at another soulless walking corpse…._

_T-Dog had no words for the idiot with the firearm. Merle didn't wait for his reply._

" ... _They call them __rollers," Merle spoke with a laugh. The gun fried again and the sound of the shot beamed off of the surrounding structures._

_T-Dog thought he heard on the radio that Glenn was returning, and he had in tow someone with him. Theodore Douglas was determined to get away from this foolish white boy. Merle was crazy, and T-Dog knew it, He headed down to the bottom floor of the department store. He left that idiot Merle up on the roof alone._

_END PART 17_

_**A/N again: After 17 chapters I hope readers understand the content of what can be expected from me in forthcoming WD fan-fiction stories. I do like to invent twists and turns and alternative scenarios to the existing WD universe. Not that it would be the way the creators of the books or tv series would tell the story, but I do like to think it a possibility. Anyhoo, my stories will not contain offerings of intimate couplings, or (shipper-slash) works. I'll leave the sex and romance to other fic writers. I enjoy focusing more on the characters and what is going through their minds, what they may be thinking. I love toying with the lesser presented actors of the media. Jim, Jacqui and Jenner may all regain life in one of my fan-fics….who's to say what really happened to those folk? Everyone has a story to tell, who they are, who they were before the world went to s*%t, and what led them to be on that forsaken road to Atlanta? Also what caused them to join the group in the rock quarry? These are questions I think it would be fun making an attempt to answer. This was how the "Stand Alone" fan-fic series began. I hope readers are finding this rather optional way of looking at things interesting? Z **_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Stand Alone 18**_

"_**Jenner"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: 18, Jenner". My thanks to all who have reviewed previous chapters.**_

_**Following the path of the tv series, Merle Dixon escapes the rooftop of the department store building (as we all know), but what befalls him afterward? Sure when Daryl returns with Rick, T-Dog & Glenn… they are able to retrace his route, Merle is quite the survivor, yet at this point the attempting rescuers' do not know what has happened to the man? This remains a mystery until they get back from their dealings with the folk who have fortified themselves within the hospital and find that their van has been stolen. Did Merle take it? **_

_**This chapter attempts to explore what happened to the older Dixon brother once he shed the handcuffs (in an utmost gruesome manner) and made his way out of "Zombie Atlanta". Merle is suffering from fever and is delusional, a condition brought about by his self-inflicted injury. He is resourceful though, and tuff as nails, but even nails rust. Merle cauterized his wound, but will it be enough to save him without help? Check out the scenario of what could have happened to Merle Dixon. I hope you enjoy, Z. **_

****************_ Shattered Soul _*****************

_Merle Dixon was trying to focus, but his mind wouldn't let him. He heard voices, but wasn't sure if they were real, or just a figment of his imagination. Had he died, were these the voices of departed souls? Voices that now sat in judgment of whether he should be allowed into heaven, or be condemned to the fire pit of Hell. _

"_Hell"...this was the place in which Merle need pay restitution for his sins…. and the crimes he had committed while among the living? One thing was for certain though, one of those voices had more the sound of an angel, than the tone of a demon._

"_Joe, could you please slow down," the angelic voice noted with a bit of concern, "my patient is being tossed around back here like a rag-doll!"_

"_Sorry milady," came Joe's answer, "I was trying to get us back to the facility as quickly as possible."_

_Merle's mind was still in a fog, he then focused on the twinge coming from his right hand. He moaned loudly as a streak of pain rushed up his arm._

"_Do you need more morphine," the angelic voice spoke, now returning her attention to him? Merle said nothing in reply, why answer an apparition? He seemed to be doped up, more than usual, and the last thing he remembered was hot-wiring a white delivery truck near a railroad track, a bit difficult to do with one hand, and driving it away from the city, which was a chore in itself. After that things became a blur._

_Dixon's mind was a mixture of the surreal. His eyelids fluttered, but he could not force them to remain open. He was returning to consciousness, but it was progressing slowly….._

_A millisecond later he heard gunfire erupt from atop the vehicle, someone was firing. Merle listened to the repeating gunfire as if it were a lawnmower cutting down blades of grass. He then again heard the voice of the driver…._

"_Dammit Miller what's going on up there? The road looks clear; we don't have that much ammunition for you to be wasting it on targets that aren't in our path!"_

_A second later Joe received an answer from Miller, the private stationed outside, on the gun turret….._

"_Sorry Sarg, just dropping a few geeks," the man proclaimed, "I think you'd be happy. I believe I just put a bullet to your ex-wife. Shouldn't you be giving me a metal for that?" _

_Merle thought he heard the man outside the structure laugh with glee. Joe McNelly, the driver started laughing too, but Merle was still in the state of dreamland, he wasn't sure if what he was hearing was real, or just puppetry of his polluted imagination?_

"_OK you two; cut the chatter," the woman's voice sought to intervene, "we need to focus on returning without all the drama."_

_Merle could tell right away that the woman was in charge of this operation, he again attempted to open his eyes, with a degree of success this time. He found himself lying flat on his back looking straight up at the low ceiling of some sort of vehicle. It took but seconds for him to realize that he was inside of a military transport, the kind of vehicle that had three wheels on both sides, and carried thick armor plating. There were no windows, and the back of the vehicle looked like it had a rear exit that dropped down like a ramp._

_Merle thought that he could hear the engine tone of the machine increase then relax as the driver slowed, and then increased speed as he maneuvered around obstacles in his pathway._

"_Ten more minutes and we'll be back to the CDC doc," Joe announced to the woman in the back of the vehicle. Joe was part of the military security team tasked with protecting the CDC, and like Fredrick Miller, Joe had volunteered for this mission to assist the Doctor. Candice had wanted to venture out to Atlanta to locate a fresh victim of the virus. She needed this to complete her studies of the viral contagion that now plagued the country, no, the world._

_The man they had found slumped over in the van seemed to fit the criteria and looked to be the perfect candidate. Examining the wound to his right hand had shown her that it was not an injury created by geeks, which was a little disappointing, but the doctor had insisted that they bring him back anyway. Now she looked down upon her patient, the man had a stern jaw; she had always been attracted to men with that look, a bold face and a stern jawline had always been a point of allure to the CDC doctor. Her husband had a bold face and a stern jawline. She was hoping to return to the safety of the complex and see her husband again soon._

****************_ Jenner _*****************

_Candice Jenner, wife of Doctor Edwin Jenner had made it an obligation to find a cure for the plague that now ravaged the world. She was in contact with scientists in France; they were on the brink of creating a vaccine, with the help of her research maybe the scientific community would be able to create something that would work, a way to turn the plague around. The best minds across the globe were searching for a remedy, yet, like all things, would they be allowed the time to develop it?_

_The vehicle pulled to a stop inside the safe zone of the CDC, or what had been considered the safe perimeter._

"_We've arrived milady," McNelly spouted as he pulled the military transport to a halt in front of the huge building._

_Miller was still firing the fifty-cal atop the vehicle's turret, splattering the brains of geeks like nobody's business. Joe thought that, as a youngster, he may have played too many video games._

_The ramp went down, and with the help of Sergeant McNelly, Candice Jenner was able to get Merle to his feet. She could see by looking out of the back of the transport that the main door to the CDC was open. Two guards stood on either side of the doors protecting it from the geeks that had assembled around the exit._

_Candice took a brief instant to smile; she knew that her husband Edwin would sell his soul to make sure that those doors stayed open until she was inside._

_Edwin Jenner watched by closed circuit camera as his wife escorted some unknown individual down the transport ramp. She and Sergeant McNelly were set upon by walkers as soon as they reached the bottom of the ramp; however the Sergeant was able to use his pistol to repel the attackers. Private Miller wasn't so lucky, the geeks had set upon him as soon as his ammo ran out. They were now devouring the private alive. Edwin had Vi turn off the camera. He__ left the confines of the Big-Room and headed to the entrance. _

_Doctor Edwin Jenner had been against the idea of his wife venturing out to find a suitable subject. Candice has wanted a fresh candidate for her tests, and she wouldn't be happy until she attained one. Two of the security team had volunteered to escort her, McNelly and Miller. Edwin had objected to his wife doing this, but she was a head-strong woman, and would not allow his negative intuition to influence her decision._

_Candice Jenner, woman of high education had been tasked with running Atlanta's CDC. She felt it a position of honor, and in no way would she fall limp in her duty to help protect America. She meant to find a vaccine to the plague, a cure. She loved life and she loved living, if giving of her life meant the salvation of humanity then she was all too ready to complete the task._

_As Edwin made his way up to the ground floor entrance of the CDC he found that the main doors were now closed and locked. The two guards stationed there had entered the fortification code and the glass doors had shut. Jenner looked around for his wife and McNelly. He soon found Candice lying on the carpet, alone, the others had not made it inside. McNelly had been taken by walkers and pulled back into the swarm at the door, and the test subject had returned to the safety of the troop carrier. Edwin watched as the door to the ramp pulled up and closed, the man eyeing him with a look of cold steel. _

_The inch thick Plexiglas doors now separated Merle from the safety of the CDC. Soon the main explosive metal doors closed too. The world outside was now a place barricaded away by walls of steel and bullet resistant enclosure._

_Edwin looked down at his wife. At least she was safe, he felt good about that, then suddenly he notice the injury to her arm, teeth marks…..she had been bitten. Candice looked up at her husband…_

"_Ed, bring me to the lab, begin tests right away," she spoke._

_Instead of going out in the world and finding TS-19, Candice Jenner had become TS-19._

_END PART 18_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Stand Alone 19**_

"_**Hodge, And the Road to Woodbury"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: 19"… Merle can't get inside the CDC, they won't allow him inside, still, the Georgia born native, son of an outlaw( figuratively speaking), has brains as well as brawn, he figures that if they won't let him in then he'll just drive away (which he does) and hope for the best. **_

_**Readers forgive the length of time it has taken for me to complete this next chapter. Lots of things going on in the Z world, thanks to my friends…**_

****************_ So! This is What _*****************

_Merle Dixon awoke bathed in a sweat. It was dark inside the vehicle where he rested, dark and hot. Still he felt safe, as safe inside the armored vehicle (away from the apocalypse hordes) as if he were on the moon, well almost, he was still a bit apprehensive about his situation. He had driven the military transport, now in which he called home, away from the CDC the second day he'd become stranded outside the facility's doors. The people inside wouldn't let him in. All the begging and pleading he'd done and the doors had remained closed, sealing him away, just like when he was at doors of the West Georgia Corrections Institute, only this time he was on the outside of those locked doors. Were those individuals inside the CDC heartless, or were they just emotionless souls looking to protect their own skins? After a while he realized that it was useless trying to gain access to the shelter, and he concluded that if it were him in there, (all guarded and comfy behind those doors), he'd probably react in the same manner, he'd keep the doors shut too. _

_Merle was no fool; he considered that they probably thought that he was already zombified by now, just waiting to sink his teeth into someone's flesh. They had left him out in the armored vehicle for two days, alone and helpless, however Merle was used to being alone, and, even with the use of only one arm he was far from being helpless. He had always had the feeling of being alone, alone…. except for those times when he was with his brother. He and Daryl had never asked for help, and usually didn't receive any. He had survived a life full of pain and brutality, and also, years inside the West Georgia prison system, he could survive this._

_Merle had found a medical kit inside the armored transport, and some MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), so it wasn't as if he were going to starve to death. He dosed himself with pain-killers, sealed the hatch to the gun turret and proceeded to the operation cabin, the front part of the vehicle. He switched the machine on, and brought it to life. He then began driving it down the highway as if he owned the road, and at that time, it was a fair mind to say that he did. The streets around the CDC were overrun with corpses, of the walking variety; Merle had a delightful time plowing over zombies and splattering geek guts all over the front of the transport, but soon he realized that if he weren't careful he would exhaust the transport's fuel, not a good idea. He picked a direction and headed away from the city._

_Several miles outside of Atlanta he came to a forested area and decided that this would be a good place to hold up for the night. He drove into the woods, out of sight of the highway, and turned the engine off. He stood up, as well as he could in the tightly packed troop transport, and headed for the rear of the vehicle. In the back chamber he applied fresh bandages to the wound of his right arm, and then gave himself another caster of morphine before settling down to get some rest._

_When Merle had awoken he was bathed in sweat, he also heard some tapping sounds coming from outside of the transport. His curiosity had him sit up inside the darkness of the troop carrier. He wasn't sure if he was totally alert, or if he was having fevered hallucinations? He listened, and then heard the sound again. _

_It wasn't a loud banging as if someone were trying to get in, more like a subtle "tap, tap, tapping", like an SOS, or distress call. It stopped and he wouldn't hear it for a while, then it would start up again. He arose and went to the front of the vehicle. Looking through the front armored glass he could see nothing, he looked through every peep-hole he could find on the vessel, yet he found no sign of what was making the noise. It was a curiosity to him. Finally the mystery got the better of him and he opened the top hatch to the transport. _

_The light from a midafternoon day streamed inside the vehicle, it blinded his eyes for a moment, but then as his vision cleared and he was able to look up he could see the grayish cloud-cover of an overcast day filtering in through the tree branches overhead. He waited to see if geeks would attempt to enter through the portal. He remained poised to see if sunken eyes and barred teeth would enter into his line of vision, or maybe thin gnarly arms with boney, skeletal fingers reach in through the port…. it didn't happen._

_Merle knew that geeks weren't that good at climbing. If one or two had actually been able to hoist themselves aboard the military transport he should be able to smell them, or at least hear their labored breathing. _

_He considered that this was odd, that curiosity of the walkers, that even though they were dead, they still made the heavy breathing sounds of a runner who'd just finished a 10K marathon. He didn't understand the reason or explanation for it, he wasn't a scientist, he only knew that it helped the living to become alert of the dead. They might be able to smell us, but we certainly could hear them, and that, was a good thing._

_Anyway, Merle could not see nor hear anything. He had found a military style knife, within the troop carrier, this he kept at the ready as he slowly eased his head above the rim of the hatch. He looked forward and there was nothing within his line of sight, either a living, or dead, but then he felt something hard press against the back of his head, and he heard the sound of a pistol hammer being pulled back._

"_That be far enough friend."_

_Merle heard a masculine voice speak behind him._

****************_ Hodge _****************

"_I'm not a zombie, please don't shoot!"_

_The words escaped his mouth even before Merle had a chance to think about them._

"_Never figure that you were," a male voice announced from behind him, "now drop the weapon and crawl out of there."_

_Merle did as instructed, well, as best he could with one arm. Once he was out, and standing upright atop the troop carrier the man spoke again._

"_Now, put your hands….hand, behind your head and turn around."_

_Merle did this, and turned around slowly to face his adversary, he then could see in front of him a tall man standing there, as tall as himself, and in better shape. The man was heavily muscled and Merle determined, with a glance, that he would be a tough opponent if it came down to a fight between them._

"_Your injury, how…..?"_

"_Had to cut myself free of a tight situation," Merle offered before the man could finish his query. _

_The individual studied Merle for a moment, standing feet away he lowered his weapon from a direct target at Dixon's head to a more relaxed posture; still, his finger never left the trigger._

"_Look, I'm not infected," Merle offered up more information, "I'm not a….."_

"_Didn't figure you to be one of them," the man spoke. This time he had cut Merle off before Dixon had a chance to finish, "biters haven't the thought of mind on how to enter a troop carrier, less so of how to drive one. How did you come to be in the possession of a Otokar?"_

_Merle Dixon took this opportunity to lower his arms, even though he had not received permission to do so. _

_Merle Dixon was smart, he had deduced in the past few seconds that this guy wasn't a killer, if so….then he would have already been dead. Another thing that Merle had noticed was that this guy had called the walkers "biters", that seemed to be a term that would be used by a CLAN, other than just some single individual out in the world alone, this fellow must be part of a group or tribe. Also, he must be military, or have a military background, who else would know that the transport Merle had been driving would be known as an Otokar troop carrier? That's not something your average hardware store manager would know. The last thing Merle recognized about the man was the tattoo on his upper right arm, crossed sabers with the caption "Ranger" inked underneath. _

_Merle had learned in the pen to become a quick study. He could size up a man within seconds, he could deduce whether a fellow was a threat, or if he was someone that could be controlled or trusted, or whether a man was a leader. Years of living a harsh life had taught the older Dixon how to cope in certain situations, how to survive, and one way to survive was to gain as much information as you could about a person._

"_What's your name?" Merle asked with a jolt…._

_His question caught the military man off-queue, yet the fellow answered with an abrupt response._

"_Hodge….you can call me Hodge, just Hodge," the man's eyes hollowed a second, then he asked, "and yours….?"_

_Merle looked him…._

"_You can call me Merle, just Merle."_

****************_ The Road to Woodbury _****************

"_Well Mr. Merle…..just Merle, how about we climb down off of this tank, and conducted our business further, on the ground."_

_Merle wasn't fond of the idea of touching down on God's green earth, not when he might share footing with walkers. He felt safer IN, or on top of the troop carrier, still what choice did he have, he was at gunpoint._

_He climbed down and heard Hodge slip down behind him. He was contemplating the idea was spinning around and gaining the advantage by surprise...but Merle did have an idea that this guy was good, well trained. The "Ranger" tattoo on his arm expressed that Hodge would put a bullet through his skull before Merle could blink twice. _

_At that moment Merle made the decision to wait for a more optimum opportunity. He took in a deep breath….then, before he could exhale he realized something was happening, and it was a bit late for him to react. Cold, hard steel was placed against his head. The butt-end of a revolver bashed against the rear of his skull, and then... all went dark._

_Merle awoke again, his head was throbbing, there was pain, pain in his brain….it almost equaled the pain in his arm. He opened his eyes and found himself chained to a tree. He looked up to see Hodge sitting on the back of the Otokar, all poised and comfy like._

"_Well glad that you returned to the land of the living," the man spoke._

_Merle looked down to see that the only hand he had remaining was shackled. The chain stretched from around his wrist and disappeared behind a thick bulk of a pinewood tree that he was now postured at the foot of._

"_WHAT'S THIS SHIT HODGE, I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS," Merle made an attempt at pushing guilt onto the man. An amateurish way of creating remorse, he should have known better._

"_Friends? Merle, Merle Dixon, what makes you think that living in a world of the post apocalypse has made humanity's love for one another more relevant than it was before?"_

_Merle was shocked that Hodge knew his entire name…..the army Ranger looked at his hostage pinned to the tree. _

_Hodge was sure of the fact that knowing Merle's full name was now playing tricks on the man's brain. How long would he play with his captive, not long, Hodge had other things to do, and other places to be._

"…_yepper Merle, I took the liberty of rifling through your pockets while you were asleep. How are your brother Daryl, and your sister Hayden?" Hodge paused, honestly looking a bit guilty of taking advantage of the leverage of his control... _

_"Sorry, that may have been inappropriate, being that I don't know if they are alive or dead," Hodge paused, "still, I want you to know that I will not kill you. I'm not a murderer. I'm just a military man in search of his own family. I have relatives in Texas. My plans are to take this vehicle and proceed to my home state. I have a sister, father and brother that I hope to find, still breathing, with the appropriate lungs that God gave us, and in healthy condition," he paused momentarily, " with this I conclude thee a healthy fare the well, although I don't know how long you'll last out here in these woods."_

_With that Hodge stood and proceeded to the open hatchway of the troop carrier. Before he slid down inside the craft Merle voiced a shout-out._

"_HEY, ARE YOU JUST GOING TO LEAVE ME HERE….TIED TO THIS TREE? HOW HUMANE IS THAT?"_

_Merle was hoping that he desperate plea this time would not go unheeded….._

_Hodge turned to the man… he looked down and saw the military knife which Merle had dropped just moments before still atop the transport. He reached down and picked up the weapon, then he threw it at the man staked to the tree. It lodged itself into the ground just inches from Merle's left boot._

"_There," Hodge said, "cut yourself free…."_

_Merle looked over at the knife…._

"_What, you want me to cut off my own hand?" an impossible task concluding that he had only one operating appendage. _

_Hodge looked over at the man who he had chained to the pine tree._

"_That would be a bit disarming, don't you think?" Hodge suddenly realized the cruel sarcasm of his statement, "sorry Merle, my apologizes "he spoke, "look…..behind the tree the chain is fastened to the trunk with rope. I didn't have enough chain to secure you totally to the tree. I finished the chore with a bit of rope I had with me. Use the knife when I leave to cut the rope. You can free yourself; I'd be quick about it, biters roam these woods looking for fresh blood-soaked flesh," Hodge paused a moment to give Merle direction….._

"_To the northeast you'll find a town called Woodbury. Its run by an individual who calls himself "The Governor". Hope you fair better with him then I did. I don't think he likes military folk that much…anyway, farewell and good luck to you. I do hope you locate Daryl and Hayden. Family ….family above anything is the most important….goodbye friend," then Hodge slipped down inside the transport._

_The engine started soon enough, and the vehicle was put into gear and driven out of sight. Merle contemplated the words of the Army Ranger….. he was determined to find his brother, and if they could, find Hayden as well._

_Merle wasn't the kind of man that would ever give up. He looked up to the heavens…._

"_God, grant me the gift of finding my brother and sister alive, and I will ever be in your mercy."_

_Merle wasn't in the regard of praying. It wasn't like the Lord to grant any indulgence of his, not even in the least. He had uttered a prayer years ago, while he was in prison, a request to the man upstairs that he be allowed to attend his mother's funeral. It was a prayer that had been returned unanswered..._

_ A solitary tear ran down Merle's cheek...he turned his head to the right... then to the left. He was grateful that there was no one there to see his emotion, even if it were the soulless bodies of walkers, not because he was in fear of the undead, but of what Merle feared most, was the reality of himself._

_END PART 19_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Stand Alone 20**_

"_**Cans"**_

_**Author's note: "Stand Alone: 20"… After Merle's encounter with Hodge he feels that his best way to make friends is on his terms. The military Ranger may have left him alive, but he also released him into a wooded area filled with Walkers, and he stole his troop carrier as well. Merle is still unsure about Woodbury, he decides to head towards the town yet remain hidden. He'll check things out first, and then decide if he wants to join the clan…..**_

_**PS: this story mainly concerns Daryl, and his thoughts and ideas….so even though the main character of the story arc is Merle, I do throw in a little sideways story with other characters now and then…..hope you like, Z.**_

****************_ Daryl _*****************

_Daryl Dixon looked at the group inside the cellblock of the West Georgia prison complex. He still didn't like what they had done to his brother, leaving him chained up on top of a building like that, however, Daryl also knew that Merle could be difficult. The fact was….that his older brother was a lot like their father, although he would never tell Merle that to his face. Sometimes apples didn't fall far away from the tree, not even rotten ones._

_From his perch, second floor balcony of the West Georgia cellblock, Daryl took account of the group. There was Rick, the leader, Glenn, Lori, Hershel, T-dog, Carol, Carl, Maggie and Beth, and then there were the others, the inmates Rick had chosen not to eliminate, the guys that they had cleared an area for so that they could remain inside the prison, Oscar, and Axel. Daryl didn't think that these two guys should have been included into the group, but that was just his opinion. Sometimes the crossbow toting survivor of the zombie apocalypse felt as much a loner as his brother. _

_Daryl knew that he had become part of the "Atlanta" family, but there were times when he felt that his role in the social network of the Atlanta tribe was more of a burden to him….then actual salvation._

_After spending days inside the prison compound the "Atlanta" group was beginning to feel safe and secure, but Daryl could also see that the group was becoming lax and lazy. Living outside the compound had forced the clan to remain on its toes; they couldn't allow walkers to enter inside their space. They had used cans strung on tripwires to alert them of impending danger, yet now, with a twelve foot fence barrier keeping the walking corpses out, he felt that the rest of the group had gone lax, evidenced when he had called up to Glenn and Maggie in the guard tower. Daryl was no fool, he knew, just as the rest of the tribe, what they were doing up there. Alone, up in a high place, they had had their fun… yet it would have been a hell of a thing for the rest of them to have been eaten by walkers while the two had enjoyed their little tryst up there._

_Daryl was far from being the leader of the group, yet he did have his standards on how he felt the group should be run. Tolerances, Daryl was not a very tolerable guy. He understood that this country was based on freedom but he remembered the old Janice Joplin song, "….freedom is just another word for nothing left to loose…." That to him meant that the last bit of freedom that anyone had was their life. You could choose to live your life in bondage, or you could choose it live it in the open world. _

_Inside this prison Daryl felt like a caged animal. His brother had spent five year behind bars, and he himself had spent a day or two inside a local jail cell as well, still Daryl knew that being locked up was not the place for him, he looked to get out, only he needed an excuse to tell Rick why he needed to venture outside the gates….._

****************_ Cans _*****************

_Cans…! As Daryl stood on the catwalk of the cellblock's second tier he realized that cans were the solution, his answer for having an excuse to leave the grounds of the prison. They had used cans strung across wire to alert the clan when walkers were on the boundary of the protected area , when the group had made its home in the rock quarry just outside of Atlanta, now, as he watched he could see the soup cans that were part of the tribes everyday diet. How long would the group last once the soup ran out? _

_His argument to Rick would be that the "family" needed fresh meat. Venison that would help stretch the merger supplies of their existing storeroom. He could leave the security of the compound and secure meat for the group in the form of squirrels and rabbit. This would allow their food stores to be prolonged that much further into the coming year, should the prison remain their home._

_Daryl gathered up his bow and headed for the elevated crossway which linked two areas of the prison. He knew that he would find Rick there, usually with his field binoculars scouring the area for weaknesses in their defenses. Daryl planned on voicing his plan to Rick. He hoped that Rick Grimes would see things his way…. that the food stores would be exhausted quickly if there wasn't an alternate for their means of support._

_Daryl presented his argument to Grimes, Rick was in full support of his venture, and also he had no idea of the real intent of Daryl's desire to get out. Once outside the fence Daryl felt less like a caged animal, what with his trickery of the leader of the Atlanta clan, Daryl felt that he had just upped his influence on the way things would be run. He did not know that there was someone outside the gate, circling the compound like a tiger circling its most resent quarry._

_Merle Dixon circled around the prison complex. He remembered being inside the West Georgia Prison Institute, and those memories were not favorable ones. He ducked down as he witnessed someone exiting the gate of the compound. Maybe the prisoners had rallied, thrown their weight against the establishment, decided that their torture inside the complex was more tolerable then what lay outside the gates? He wished to hide, stay concealed from the person leaving those tortured walls._

_Had Merle raised his eyes, glancing a little bit beyond the wooded foliage of his concealment, he may have recognized the man exiting the gate of the prison complex. Blood may be thicker than water, but it sure didn't help in the case of these two individuals. _

_Daryl strolled into the woods, never knowing that his brother was just feet away, and Merle crossed himself, thanking the Lord that he hadn't been spotted, wouldn't do him much good to be caught before he had a chance to perform reconnaissance on Woodbury. Being caught by inmates of an institution where his popularity was of note as revenge to the majority of the population, would not be a good thing. Merle lay low until he knew that the man who'd exited the gate was well beyond being able to feel his presents. He slipped away from the prison complex without them even knowing that he was ever there._

_END POST 20_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Stand Alone 21**_

"_**Haley and the Road to Woodbury"**_

_**Author's note: Spoiler Alert, if you are not up-to-date on the WD tv series then you should skip this work!**_

"_**Stand Alone: Chapter 21" deviates from the arc of Merle Dixon and focuses more on a girl that, in my opinion, needed more of a background story. Thanks for reading, Z.**_

**************** _Haley and the Wall _*****************

_She sat there, the girl in her lounge chair, all relaxed and comfortable. She was keeping vigilance over an area that was outside the wall, a spot that was just past the fortress barricade. It was her responsibility to guard, to watch, to keep this section of asphalt (located just outside the guarded community of Woodbury) safe._

_Haley had not seen a human, walking corpse or even a stray dog since she had started her shift. She HAD… a long ago, become bored. She felt confident that her area was secure, at least for the moment, yet if something was to appear, something that proved to be a threat, she was certain that, with her quiver of arrows resting comfortably by the wall next to where her feet were braced …..She would be able to control that threat._

_Turning her head, she glanced down the rampart towards the man (thirty feet away) that shared the stockade rampart with her. Martinez was on guard shift also, and he was sitting there in his own lounger, mind totally focused on an intense game of solitaire. She knew that he was as bored as she was. "Wall duty"… it was a tedious job keeping watch for the town of Woodbury, but everyone had to do it, well, everyone of a certain age. Still, she preferred "guard duty" over working in the kitchen preparing the evening meals. _

_Haley had her own way of passing the monotony of "watch patrol"; she kept a journal…a diary, not only of the things that happened to her each day, but of her thoughts and ideas. It helped her to concentrate more on what she wanted in the future, other than what had happened to her in the past. _

_She tilted her head back, back against the aluminum frame the lounge chair. With her eyes close she allowed the warn sunlight to shine upon her face. She listened to the sounds of the people behind her, the organized community of Woodbury whose folk went about their daily business, confident in their thoughts that they were protected. Assured that the security that they felt, and had become accustomed to, had been restored somewhat…..restored by a man that the town called, The Governor. _

_The Governor had returned people's lives to a semblance of what it had been before, prior to the world going to shit. He had actually saved Haley from being eaten alive by biters, she owed him that. However, in her mind the jury was still out on the Governor. She accepted him as leader of Woodbury, but her opinion of the man was still in question. There was the underlying feeling (which was shared by others), that he was keeping secrets._

_As Haley sat there listening to the sounds of people, and Mother Nature….the chirping birds, the noise of insects, even the scurrying of squirrels as they made their way across the pavement just outside of the barricade, it was hard to believe that the world had gone mad, those sounds were still hopeful, and still relaxing._

_Squirrels, she was wondering if the furry little creatures would be on the diner menu tonight. The women of the community did most of the cooking for Woodbury, except for an older man named Sam, Sam Dale. Haley thought that he must have been a chef or something before the apocalypse, he cooked excellent squirrel. Even though she had never eaten the little varmint before coming to Woodbury, if well-cooked they were rather tasty, and a main source of the community's diet (a supplement to the rations that still remained in the town). Her arrows had pierced many a pelted varmints' body to provide food for the table of the town. Squirrels, rabbits, possums and even raccoon were on the list of animals she now found herself eating. One could not be picky in a post-apocalyptic world. She had found it better at times not to ask what was on the dinner table when they ate supper in the late evenings, it was better not to know._

_Anyway Haley opened her eyes and returned her attention to monitoring the landscape beyond the fortress walls, still there was nothing to see. She looked over at her bow and her quiver of arrows resting neatly in their case next to the rampart. She thought about the arrows, fourteen…fourteen sharp, steel tipped, razor-headed deliverers of death._

_DEATH….Haley thought about the gruesome event that had caused her to be in possession of the bow and arrows. Her father and brother had gone on a hunting trip, back before the time of the virus, and when they had returned it was found that her brother had been bitten by, what they assumed at the time… was a madman. As it turned out the man had been infected with plague, he had become a "biter"._

_Haley had never heard the term "biter" until she'd come to Woodbury. Biters were walking carcasses who'd become infected with disease, the same pandemic that now ravaged the world. She had found the gun her father had hidden away in a safe place in their house had used it to eliminate her infected brother, and at some point…. her father as well. It made her sick to think about it. She had then pulled the bow from her father's cold, stiff fingers and made a pledge to him to rid the world of the creatures that had turned him and her brother into Walking Dead. _

_While sitting there she contemplated the idea that steel tipped arrows were now as good as gold, NO, better that gold. A shiny gold necklace couldn't save your life, but a shiny silver tipped arrow could. She had ended many a biter with one of her arrows, and put many a squirrel on the dinner table. Still Haley figured her aim wasn't as good as she hoped it to be. She could hit a target with ninety-seven percent accuracy, but her goal was one hundred percent._

_Thinking of arrows and hunting, Haley suddenly realized that the birds had stopped chirping, the crickets had stopped their song, and the squirrels had scuttled off to safety. This could only mean one thing, "BITERS". She scanned the area of her safe zone. In moments she heard the distinct sound of shuffling feet, of footsteps being dragged across pavement, which informed her that the day had certainly taken a turn for the interesting, that guard watch this day, may not be as dull as she originally thought it would be. She notice within a few seconds a biter entering into her space, a man, he came from behind a burned out sedan, she alerted Martinez of the situation. Martinez immediately stood up and raised his automatic rifle, but he did not fire. He knew that Haley had "spotter's choice", a term used by people on the wall, meaning that if you spotted a biter first, then you had first try at bringing them down. She swiftly picked up her bow and slung an arrow, taking a bead on the creature as it came around the car. She suddenly became aware of a sound just below the barricade where she stood. Looking down she was surprised to see another biter with its nose almost to the wall of the stockade. That was the thing about biters, sometime you could heard them coming, and sometimes they were able to sneak up on you. This individual had evidently made his way up to the fortification without being seen or heard. He took priority over the one sixty feet away. Haley tilted her arrow directly down at the corpse, pulling her sting back for maximum delivery, she released the arrow. The biter didn't even know what hit him as the arrow pierced his skull and exited out the bottom of his throat. He dropped to the pavement in a pile of debris. She then again took bead on the biter by the sedan. Releasing her arrow she caught the walking corpse in the throat, just off center, left. Still the shaft went through him and exited the back, nailing him to the vehicle that he had been standing next to. He slumped over pinned to the frame of the car._

_Haley turned and smiled at Martinez, confident in her kills, her aim was improving. She contemplated the idea that she could add two more to the running list of biters that she had sent to hell. She kept a numbered count of in her journal, increasing her total to fifteen. The only thing now was that she had to retrieve her arrows. She waited the allotted time to see if any more biters would show up, none did, then after seventeen minutes she and Martinez concluded that those were the only two. She motioned to her partner that she was going to climb down and exit the compound to retrieve her arrows, an expressed violation of the Governor's rules, but the people on "guard patrol" usually did things the way they wanted without the Governor ever finding out. She waved for Martinez to post watch while she left the compound and ventured out into the unprotected street._

_She got Noah, the young lad on "door duty" to slide the bolts of the three latches on the door that secured the compound from its outside dangers. He opened the door and into the street she went. In two seconds Haley was outside the safety of the fortress._

_She walked up to the first biter, poor soul, he reminded her of her chemistry professor back at the University of Georgia, where she had been a student. She placed her foot on his chest, took hold of the arrow shaft and pulled. It came loose with a squishing sound, nasty and gross sounding, but when dealing with biters it was always nasty business. She wiped the brain matter and blood off on the creature's shirt._

"_Sorry Professor Whedon," she apologized, although she wasn't sure if it were he or not._

_She then made her way to her next victim. Cautiously she approached her kill; she examined the corpse for a full minute before getting too close. The creature looked dead; of course it had looked that way when it had come from around the side of the burnt-out car. She turned see if Martinez was still watching? On the wall he stood vigilant, like an eagle observing its next rabbit kill. She returned her attention to getting her arrow._

_Haley began to tug on the arrow; it was embedded through the neck and into the frame of the vehicle. It wouldn't pull loose. The exerted force of the blow, magnified by her compound bow, had been better than she'd imagined. She place her foot on the deflated rear tire of the car in order to give her extra leverage….the next thing she became aware of was that a long, skin-dried hand, with bony fingers had reached up and taken hold of her arm, the biter had reanimated. _

_Haley's eyes went wide, she screamed and the biter broke loose of its restraint, it grabbed her other wrist. The creature spun her about; it was between the wall and the young girl now. She shouted for Martinez to help, but he, looking down the scope of his automatic weapon, could not get a clear shot. With the creature between them he couldn't take the chance on hitting Haley._

_The next few seconds were a blur in the mind of the former college student, she fell, with the beast falling on top of her, it was attempting to bite her, Its breath a rancid, foul smell of death, which of course, would be obvious. She could hear the sounds of excitement coming from the compound, it seemed that the alert had gone out, but what good would that do? If she were bitten, she would be as good as dead, even if she were rescued._

_The sound of the excitement in her brain were becoming louder, Martinez was coming, along with other men from the compound, yet all the noise was being filtered through the fog of the surreal. In a moment Haley heard the sound of metal piercing bone, the zombies head became transfixed, a knife blade protruding out of its left ear…. he then was pulled off of the girl. Haley looked up into the eyes of her savior, into the eyes of a man she'd never seen before._

"_Come with me if you want to live," he whispered casually, like from one of those old Terminator movies. He reached out with his good hand, the only hand he had, and helped her to her feet. They were joined quickly by Martinez and others, the men quickly escorted her back to the safety of the barricade._

_Just as she'd been saved by the Governor, she had been saved by a stranger again. Who was this man? She now owed him so much. She was soon to find out._

_Once inside the safety of the compound he looked at her..._

_"My name is Merle," he said, "... happy to make your acquaintance."  
_

_END PART 21_

_**Author's bottom note: I would have really enjoyed seeing more of Haley in the show, maybe even witnessed a bit of her back-story Now, with the way things have gone in season 3, I don't know if that will be possible. Still with fan-fiction I have sought to pursue an alternate route. I have taken liberties in creating my own scenario of events. Haley is not completely gone, as readers will see if they continue to read this "Stand Alone" story arc (and the chapters beyond). She is a character that commands resurrection. She still, in essence demands screen time (or maybe I should refer to this as page time?)… Robert Kirkman, I curse thee and the creators of the "Walking Dead" for what you've done. Haley lives, and I summon you to read this fan-fiction to see that it is possible to bring her back. I implore you, the reader, to discover the mystery of how it is possible for Haley to be resurrected. I hope that you enjoy, Z.**_


	22. Chapter 22

Stand Alone 22

"The Governor"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 22" picks up directly after SA-21. I've changed the font style; I hope this reads better (thanks for the advice Rika24! This is for you).

Maybe this could have been named "Introduction to the Governor" instead of just "The Governor". Still, I think any reader that is following this story arc (or is new to this story) will not be concerned over the subtitle. Anyway, Merle meets the leader of Woodbury for the first time, and they each begin to form an opinion of the other…thanks for reading, Z

*************************** The Governor *****************************

Once inside the containment of the town walls Merle felt safe, maybe he shouldn't have. There were a whole group of people waiting inside for him, three with guns pointed straight at his head. He heard the sound of gunfire coming from the stockade wall. Six men had taken positions up there and were now eliminating the threat of about a dozen walkers that had wondered into the street below the barricade.

Merle looked into the faces of the crowd that had begun to surround him; he looked over at the man Martinez….

"Now hold on Manuel. Didn't I just help this little girl get back to safety. There's no need for pointing weapons in people's faces when they've just done a good deed for the day, that's how I view it in my book," Merle spoke to the man who had been sharing "wall duty" with Haley.

Martinez looked at the man who'd just referred to him as "Manuel".

"First of all Bubba, my name is not Man….," he was stopped suddenly by one of the other men holding a rifle to Merle's head.

"Hold up Martinez, let's wait until the Governor comes and makes a decision on what to do with this guy."

Martinez relaxed, he knew Tim was right, they would wait and let the Governor make a decisions on what to do with this dude...They didn't have to wait long.

Soon, the ever increasing crowd was joined by another, a man who actually seemed to be in control of the group. He came and stood in front of Merle, at a safe distance, he said nothing, just stood there studying the captive's expression.

Merle could see that this guy was in charge, the leader. Hell... they'd already referred to him as the "Governor", leader of this one horse-town (although, in Merle's mind he really didn't think this guy to be spawn from a community such as this)...his arrogance, his posture, spoke volumes to Dixon. It told him that with a word, he could command one of these geniuses (with a rife) to put a bullet through his head, no hesitation. This guy held that kind of power over this community.

The Governor looked over at Martinez….

"Has he been disarmed?"

Martinez's eyes grew wide, of course he hadn't thought about taking any weapons from the man, not yet anyway. The consequences of which, could have turned out to be fatal; maybe that was why the Governor was in charge of this town, and not Martinez. He was more able to focus on tasks from an objective viewpoint. He was more of an un-trusting soul. Martinez spoke to the man next to him...

"Tim, check him for weapons, I know he's got a knife, I've seen it."

Tim did as instructed. He removed Merle's knife, but found no other weapons.

"He's clean, other than this," he held up the weapon for the group to see, especially the Governor.

At this point the leader finally decided to speak to the new arrival.

"We usually don't allow strangers into our abode….." the Governor said to Merle...

At the moment Haley spoke up, "He saved my life. I wouldn't be here if…"

The Governor stifled her response with a glance, a look that informed Merle that this guy really was in control of the town, in total control.

"I'll talk to you later," he said, "you just stand there and wait until I'm finished with him," he nodded his head towards Merle.

Haley did as she was told. Fact was, Merle felt that if "the Governor" had told any of these townsfolk to stand on their head, they would have done so, that's how much control he commanded. He returned his attention to the prisoner.

"Your name?"

"Merle, Merle Dixon. And yours…..?"

The guy smiled a bit….a grin that told Dixon that he could be trusted, that is... if you never took your eyes off of him.

"Well as you can tell the folk in these parts refer to me as the "Governor". Not really any title I carried before, but in times like these, not a bad job to have, if one can assume the responsibility of running a town, and keeping the people safe."

The Governor's eyes narrowed a bit after that response….

"You saved one of my people," he spoke to Merle, "I'll credit you that. Haley is dear to me... and she's the reason you're still standing here and not out in the street with the biters, or with a bullet through your brain."

He stopped and smiled again, "but let's not begin this new relationship on a sour note shall we? You've saved a citizen of Woodbury, and we are grateful," he looked down at Merle's hand, or lack thereof, "have you been bitten, are you diseased?"

"No, just injured...hurt it while rescuing a group of nuns, the convent of "Our Lady of the Autumn Flower" I think," Merle smiled.

The Governor's grin grew a little wider, "Sarcasm, I love it. Look Merle, we have a doctor here, safe in our community, our GUARDED community."

The Governor made a point of stressing the guarded part...

"She'll see to your needs. After which you'll be granted an interview, a hearing that will decide whether you may remain in Woodbury, or whether you'll be back, again, beyond the safety of its walls. We work here as a unified group. The town wouldn't function if it weren't that way. If you're allowed to remain you'll conform ...or your feet will be making a path alone the ground, or maybe you'll be six-feet under it. Are we reaching a census of understanding here?" The Governor didn't mince words, he was usually direct, and to the point (although he did allow himself room for vagueness)

"Perfectly," Merle answered.

"Good, Tim, escort Merle to Dr. Stevens' clinic, and you stay with them," the Governor then turned to Haley. He allowed enough time to elapse where Merle could not hear him talking to the young girl.

"Haley, reaffirm to me the doctrine of rule 19."

The young girl, who had just moments earlier retained so much confidence with her bow, now stood in cowardice...brow-beaten in posture, brought subjacent in front of the tribune, the man who'd saved her life from biters weeks earlier.

"Rule 19," she spoke, "refers to no one leaving the confines of the compound without escort, or with the expressed permission of the community (actually "Community" was a false sense of confidence given to the folk of Woodbury. Letting them think that they had more power than they actually had. The Governor made the rules, and he had his henchmen carry them out).

The leader of the town then looked at the girl….

"….and was this property of those rules actually followed today," the Governor questioned?

"No," it was the only answer Haley could give.

The leader of Woodbury smiled a bit…..

"Haley, I care for you...and I care for everyone in this community, but rules have been established for a reason," he said, "if broken the consequences can be deadly. "if things had gone badly...instead of you being here safe, you could have been out there walking around, in search of human flesh to consume."

He raised his arm….

"Here, take a bite out of my arm…."

Haley was shocked! She had no intention of doing that! What was he crazy...?

"See, not a pretty picture is it?" The Governor sometimes reverted to dramatic flair to stress his point," If you'd become a biter you'd be willing to pull the flesh from my bones with your teeth, not a pretty image, you think? now head back to your quarters, you are relieved of guard detail until I see fit to allow you upon the wall again," he spoke.

The Governor watched as the young college student walked back to her apartment. She reminded him of his own daughter, or rather, the young college girl his daughter would have become had she been allowed to reach the age of the young Miss Haley.

Penny! The Governor was glad that the evening was beginning to grow dark, and that the crowd had dispersed after the momentary bit of excitement was over, which had stirred up the community of Woodbury briefly. Maybe Doc Stevens could find a cure (through Merle) to return his daughter to her human state. The doctor and Milton's research were showing promise...Maybe Merle Dixon was the key….or someone else they hadn't encountered yet?

Philip was glad that no one was there to witness the tear rolling down his cheek from his eye, an eye that he had no idea at the time would not be there for much longer.

END PART 22


	23. Chapter 23

Stand Alone 23

"Welcome to the New Age"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 23", introducing a new character to this story arc.

So, I'm adding a new character to the mix, and, I thought I'd add a little background information about this guy…. "Reverend Marcus Ellis". Reverend Ellis had been a resident of Woodbury for ages, well OK, for the past eight years, anyway, the good Reverend is a devout man of God. He believes in a supreme entity, yet now, with the zombie apocalypse, his work has become harder. People are turning away from the Lord; they are hard-pressed to believe in a God that would allow such a devastating thing to happen, (ie... walking corpses roaming freely around the world), creatures of the undead wandering the globe devouring Christians and non-Christians alike, who would have ever believed that it could happen? Is this a sign of the Four Horsemen? Reverend Ellis could be the man with answers. He is now becoming a man of status (ranking just below the Governor, his lieutenants, Doc Stevens & Milton), yet he, like the Governor, has his secrets...

I'm looking to explore this new character, if you have opinions or ideas, then, by all means share them with me. I'm open to suggestions and I have no problem posting credit to readers that have any ideas that influence the work…..Z

*************************** Welcome to the New Age *****************************

The Governor looked at the two men standing in the room with him, Martinez and Tim. Both of these men were trusted Lieutenants in his guard, a position acquired by showing that one was faithful…. and in full service of the Governor.

"Martinez, how is Merle's recovery coming along with Dr. Stevens?"

Martinez looked at his boss…

"Good Governor, his right arm seems to be healing fine, and his gracious attitude is starting to show that he is more accepting that we took him in, other than the alternative, putting a bullet threw his brain straight away after entering the compound, (at this time the authority of Woodbury didn't know that Merle had been shackled to a vent-duct atop a tall building in Atlanta, and that he was considered to be a troublemaker).

"Good, go to Doc Steven's clinic and tell him that he will be escorted to the Governor's mansion within the hour. We'll conduct an interview with the review committee, from which, his answers will be presented to the community of Woodbury. They will then vote to show if they are willing to accept Merle Dixon into our community," he paused momentarily, "or whether he should be expelled back into the world beyond the gates, into the arms of the biters."

Martinez understood his assignment. He turned on the spot and proceeded to carry out the Governor's orders. The Governor then looked at the man now that remained within his quarters…..

"Tim, proceed to Miss Haley's apartment. Tell her that the good Reverent Ellis is waiting on her in the chapel. He has been alerted to hear her confession as to why she desired to break one of the rules of the community" (leaving the guard-wall without escort), …."and that it was by sheer luck and divine circumstance that the man with one hand was able to save her before she was infected, turned into a biter."

"Yes Governor," Tim uttered his response.

Upon Tim's exited the room fell silent, the Governor was alone….The leader of Woodbury knew that every event that happened in Woodbury had a purpose, a reason. These events presented new opportunities.

The people of the Unites States, NO, the world, viewed tragedy as just THAT, a tragedy, whereas the Governor had come to learn (just as the big boys) to view tragic events as an alternate opportunity.

A tragic event, as terrible as it seemed, was only a step which allowed more control by established authority to endorse more restrictions. His power was being increased by events such the likes of which had happened two days ago. Merle didn't know it, but he'd just helped the Governor progress further upon a step on the ladder of respective rule. Had the Governor just killed Merle, his popularity would have been reduced, especially since Merle had saved Haley. Now, with his acceptance of Merle, and his willingness to let the community decide the fate of the man with one arm, the populace had become more respectful of their leader. That decision had boosted his status, increased his status as leader of a democratic society to a higher degree.

Philip smiled as he took a drink from his vodka cup and placed the glass back on the table, he gazed at himself in the mirror.

"You will be part of the new "Continental Congress" once this country gets its head out of its ass," he spoke to his reflection, "... and a new government is established within the next coming months," he declared, as if it would all come true.

The Governor thought about Reverend Ellis, he wondered about the man. What was it that the good preacher found interesting in hearing the confession of young girls? Well, no matter, he had his own agenda to tend to.

END PART 23

YouTube currently listening to while writing:

Lindsey Stirling & Pentatonix.


	24. Chapter 24

Stand Alone 24

"Shades"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 24"

*************************** Shades of Merle *****************************

Merle waited outside the girl's apartment. He stood silently at the door listening to the sobs coming from inside, the expression on his face was an odd one…..a blanket of crossed emotions; it would have been unreadable by anyone, anyone other than maybe his own flesh and blood…. Daryl. Even if his younger brother had been there, the look on Merle's face may have confused him. It was a rare one to be seen on Merle…compassion.

Compassion…Merle Dixon had been in the town of Woodbury for eight weeks now. Maybe the town had held compassion for him after he had saved one of their number? He had been granted permission to remain within the security of its barricaded walls, accepted into the community after the review board had found the answers to their questions favorable.

Merle had risen in the ranks of the Governor's leadership tier. Now, a sub-lieutenant in Philip's cluster of trusted cohorts, he had been allowed to accompany the group on a variety of its RRED missions (Rescue/Recover/Edit/Delete).

RRED missions were routine patrols set up by the Governor to investigate locations around the area, their objective, to scout (within a distance of a mile or so) new food supplies, and also to become aware of other clans looking to edge their way into Woodbury's territory. The Governor had a small fear of biters; but they could be eliminated as soon as they were within a rifle's cross-hairs yet what he feared more than biters were random tribes invading his world, attempting to set up their own control. That's where the "Edit/Delete" part of the RRED acronym came into play; they were to be eliminated if he felt threatened himself, or if he feared for the safety of the community.

The Governor had set up a pyramid style government in Woodbury, although to the casual eye it didn't seem that way. It wasn't until one looked deep that they realized that there was an extreme "pecking order" that flowed over the village. It showed the town being run more as a dictatorship rather than a democracy.

Actually, the townsfolk of Woodbury weren't looking for democracy, only protection, and if someone was willing to step-up and deliver them from the dangers of the outside world, then they were willing to forgo a few of their rights. They were more acceptable to his manner of government… rather than having no government at all. The walled community considered itself safe, and that was most important at the moment. All were given chores and duties to accomplish….from the oldest town resident, down to the children ages six and above. The Governor figured that it was everyone's obligation to provide for the community in whatever capacity they were able. The old washed clothing and patched up tattered garments, and the women (although defense and guard duty were in their curriculum as well) cooked and saw to the needs of the children, including their schooling. The young helped in the gardens and assisted in keeping the town fit and clean. This village seemed like a rainbow from the outside, it somewhat resembled the fictional town of Mayberry…only in that small television town there were no ravenous creatures beyond the gates waiting to bite into your flesh. No, Woodbury, to its residence seemed like heaven, even with its dangers, a haven in a world that outside, had become a living hell.

Merle stood outside Haley's apartment door. He could hear her crying in there, and it disturbed him….in more ways than one. First of all, the girl reminded him of his sister, Hayden, whom he hadn't seen since the apocalypse and at some juncture hoped to be reunited. And also he wished to find his brother, Daryl. But only the man upstairs knew if that were going to happen again.

The second thing that disturbed Merle was the idea that he was becoming weak. He often didn't let the tears of a woman affect him, most of his life before, had been lived hard and lawless, still, he felt a softness towards the girl.

Merle had always considered himself a loner. After five years spent in the West Georgia Correctional Institute, becoming very self-sufficient…..he proclaimed to need no one's protection, still, he did express a desire to protect his own family (maybe something inherited from their mother?), to others however, he did project his attitudes in a harsh manner. He was considered a cruel man, crude in his presentation and down-right repulsive in the execution of his ideas. Only his brother and sister knew that within his lion's heart lay the soul of a kinder, gentler, individual, though most folk never saw it, and most never would.

Anyway, this girl inside her apartment, weeping, was ripping his guts out. He hated himself for actually caring for the child, he felt like an older brother of sorts. As he stood there a liquid drop escape his eye and ran down his cheek, he quickly wiped it away. Yes he'd had hardships, but hadn't everybody. This girl had relatives, or she'd had a family at one time. Now she was missing them, just as him missed Daryl and Hayden…..he lightly knocked on the door to her room.

"Haley," he heard her sobbing cease.

"Yes?"

"The Governor request that you and I go up on the guard wall tonight, east barricade. He's trusting you to preform your duty-watch again….. you feel up to it?"

Merle awaited her response.

'Yeah, be with you in a minutes Earl."

She called him Earl, which brought a grin to his face. Maybe their time alone on the wall tonight they could talk about things, and he could let her know that his name was Merle, not Earl. Then the short smile on his face was quickly replaced by a more somber expression…and they could discuss the Governor as well. Merle had questions about the man…..

*************************** Shades of the Governor *****************************

Although Merle had been impressed with the leadership of Woodbury at first, his admiration for the Governor was beginning to wane. The leader of Woodbury may not be the man that he presented himself to be. First of all, the Governor allowed too much authority to this guy named Milton Mamet…..Mamet, even his name sounded fruity. Maybe there was a history between them; maybe they were linked to events beyond the town? Still, Merle didn't care much for Milton, he was an arrogant, stuck-up scientist… that thought that his shit didn't stink, although there was a horrific odor coming from the building where Milton worked (the decay of the dead) but Merle could stomach the man for a time.

The second thing that had come to Merle's concerned about the Governor was an incident which had happened during a raid on Wilson's Warehouse.

Although the community of Woodbury was eighty eight percent self-sufficient in filling its needs, there were times when RRED missions were scheduled to be run outside the fortress...and additional supplies were to be procured. On one of these excursions (Merle's second mission) the group had come across a survivor (post apocalypse), an individual hiding in the abandoned building known as Wilson's Warehouse.

Wilson's Warehouse was a big storage building containing loads of market supplies, supplies that in the time before, had been used to fill grocery chains around the area. It had been looted, but during the final days of the infection folk had been more conscious of saving their lives moreover than storing food for the coming weeks. The warehouse still retained large amounts of food goods. Patrols from Woodbury would come here once every two weeks or so, and carried away everything their vehicles could hold. During one of those warehouse excursions the patrol had come across an injured man. He was badly cut-up and scraped, but as far as Merle could tell he hadn't any teeth marks or scratches from biters.

His name was Riley, Riley Reed, and he had been a Civil Engineer in Atlanta. Merle and some of the others of the supply party thought that he would make a good addition to the community of Woodbury, but the Governor had said nothing. He expressed to the rest of the group that they should load up as much supplies as their three vehicles could carry, in the meantime he would look to the man's injuries. They did as they were told, but when they returned the stowaway hiding in the warehouse had expired, dying from injuries unknown.

This had produced a red-flag in Merle's brain, Riley hadn't seemed to be that badly hurt, but the Governor said there must have been internal wounds that could not be seen. He had put a knife through the man's skull, insuring that he did not return as an undead, and then the RRED patrol exited the warehouse and returned to Woodbury.

There were plenty of questions Merle had about the Governor. He felt that if HE ever became a threat to the Governor that he may end up with a knife through his brain too. On the wall tonight, during his guard duty with Haley, maybe he could get more answers about the "self-elected protector" of the town. She had certainly been here longer than him; maybe she had information, something she could tell him when they were on the wall alone?

And also, he could tell her that his real name was Merle…

END PART 24


	25. Chapter 25

Stand Alone 25

"Beauty & the Beasts"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 25". Delving more into the mindset of Woodbury…. The Governor, Martinez, Haley, Milton, Rowan, Dr. Stevens, Reverend Ellis (arc created character), the backstories of these characters need to be explored. I hope to accomplish this goal…. and I hope you enjoy my efforts…. Thanks, Z.

*************************** Confessions 1 *****************************

Haley sat in her chair upon the east wall of the Woodbury barricade. Over to her left sat the man who had saved her from a fate worse than death a few weeks earlier…..Merle.

Merle Dixon….. She had been informed of his true name only moments earlier ,she felt embarrassed about getting it wrong for so long, but she really hadn't seen Merle, or gotten a chance to talk to him during his first days in Woodbury. She had been given daily mundane chores to do, for weeks now, which took up most of her time, and these work duties sometimes took all day to finish. Or she was stuck in the kitchen (which she hated) assisting the cooks with the preparation of the evening meals. She assumed that she was being punished for breaking one of the Governor's rules, because, she had noticed that Martinez had been put on "shit detail" too, at least for a time.

Haley had referred to it "shit detail" because one of the chores Martinez had been scheduled to do was to spread manure around in the garden to help fertilize the vegetables that were grown in Woodbury. And there were other punishments he had to perform for his lax in judgment for letting her exit the compound alone. However Martinez, being more vital to the Governor's operation, seemed to have been less penalized than she had been. Of course, it was only reasonable, being that he hadn't left the compound alone himself, he'd only allowed her to go out in the street unassisted.

Anyway, Haley hadn't had a chance to thank Merle personally, but she had thanked him by proxy, questing Rowan to deliver a "thank you" to him for saving her. That is, she hadn't had a chance to thank him personally until tonight.

Merle had spent much of his first days in the clinic under the care of Doc Stevens. Then weeks later he had spent days having an artificial limb attached to the stub of his right arm. Also, the Governor had been keeping a strict eye on the man upon his arrival into town.

The Governor of Woodbury may have been in fear that Merle was actually an infiltrator; someone sent from another tribe looking to take-over. The leader of the small fortified community of Woodbury DID have trust issues. However, now that it had been weeks…. if Merle Dixon had been a plant, he likely would have played his cards by now. The Governor's surveillance of the newcomer had subsided some time ago. His mistrust of Merle had waned, and he had become more confident that the man was…. who he said he was. Still, Haley didn't know herself that much about Merle. Her trust in him (the man who'd saved her) could be strengthened tonight if she felt that he was actually telling her the truth. Or he could fool her, if he was a better liar than she was able to determine.

Being a pretty, young girl, Haley knew men, and she knew when they were trying to play her. College campuses were full of boys that attempted to tell girls what they wanted to hear. She figured that by the time night was over, Merle would either prove to be legit, or she would know if his interest in her was more along the lines of Reverend Ellis.

That was another issue, Reverend Marcus Ellis. The man made Haley conjure up the word "sleazy". When she was alone with him, he presented the feeling of uneasiness (like he seemingly had dead cats in his attic or something), that was just a metaphor really, but it expressed the idea that the good Reverend, in her opinion, held secrets, as did the Governor, as likely did Merle, and she too, held secrets of her own.

No one in town knew that Haley had a twin sister, a sister named Kaley. After their high school graduation the two had gone their separate ways. She had entered Georgia State University, while her sister had enrolled in the military. Kaley had gotten a message to her sister right before the "shit" had hit the fan. It informed her to be on watch….. that things were going to get bad. That was the day that her father and brother had returned from a hunting expedition, and her brother had been infected by a biter. Haley still had nightmares about that day, and she thought about it often, she could not keep the tears back when she thought about her older brother and her father. The one good thing in all of this was she believed her sister was still alive, and that one day they would be reunited. As for the man sitting next to her, she wondered what secrets Merle Dixon contained within his soul.

*************************** Confessions 2 *****************************

As Merle sat there, not six feet from her, it became apparent that his questions were more geared towards the Governor than about what she thought was HOT.

Ever mindful that men often betrayed their true intent during the first thirty minutes of their conversation with a girl, Haley studied the man. Merle had saved her life, but he seemed more interested in the leader of Woodbury rather than her. This informed her of two opposing avenues, either Merle's time spent in prison had turned him into a man-lover…(yes, he had admitted to her that he had been an inmate at West Georgia's Correctional Institute), or he was trying to get a better understanding of the kind of leadership that was present in Woodbury. All the same, Haley was getting a better understanding of Merle, and also his thought process. As the night grew closer to dawn she felt that she'd have a pretty good idea of the mindset of the man she now shared midnight guard-shit with.

Mind-Games, they still persisted even after the apocalypse…..who would have thought?

Although Merle seemed to want answers from her, they were all about the Governor. His inquiries were like, how much did she trust him? How bad were his mood swings, and did she think him capable of murder?"

All of these questions did have Haley thinking that Merle may be more than just her savior, that he may be working with someone from the outside. Then she had a question for him.

"Merle, how did you injure your hand?"

She noticed that her question totally caught him off-guard; the surprise in his eyes was evident. The man sitting six feet away from her (when the Governor's rule clearly stated that they should be spaced twenty feet apart. Another violation of the Governor's homespun regulations), suddenly stopped his questioning. He gave her that dastardly smile, that smile that Merle Dixon was famous for (or rather, infamous for).

"Well Haley," he paused a second, "as you can tell, by my admission that I was an inmate at one time, I had gotten into drugs, and drug dealing. I even ran a stick of moon-shining in my day, how old-school does that sound….,"Merle chuckled at his own addition, "the people I was with, months ago chained me to a pipe on a roof. I can't say that I blame them; I was hyped up on medication at the time. I could have gotten us all killed….the thing is, they left me there. Abandoned me to the biters. I was about to be eaten alive, but I saw an avenue of escape. They had left a toolbox with a saw inside, my salvation, my freedom..."

Merle stopped for a moment, "all the questions I've been asking you were of the concern, that should the same situation happen in Woodbury, should the population in this town ever reach a moment of self preservation, would it become desperate enough for me to be abandoned again, or would the Governor or any of his henchmen come to my rescue, at the cost of their own skin? That's why I'm asking you all these questions."

Merle had decided to go with more of an honest approach, over the quick lie.

Haley turned her head away from the man….a desire to hide an escaping tear from her right eye. She wiped it away quickly, and then she turned back to Merle, the man who'd convinced her that he was telling the truth.

"I don't know about those beasts Merle, but I would never leave you alone. If you were chained, chained to the gates of Hell, I'd come back for you, I promise you that," looking forward, Haley did not utter a sound for a while.

*************************** Beauty & the Beasts *****************************

Haley had referred to the Governor and Reverend Ellis as beasts, yet there was a question as to if the Governor really belonged in that category? Reverend Ellis did, for sure. He was a carnivore, a predator looking for easy prey. Young women and girls had likely fallen victim to this man of divine wisdom, just as they had post apocalypse. he was a smooth talker, and he, had likely continued this practice after HELL had come to earth (and he would continue even onto judgment day). Truth was….Haley trusted Merle more than she trusted the Governor or Reverend Ellis. There were others that she trusted too, like Martinez and Tim, but of other men of the community, the jury was still out.

Haley wished that she had someone to confide in, like her sister, yet there were women in town that she had gotten close to. Rowan, Rowan helped, but she was also under the influence of the Governor, there was only so much that Haley entrusted to the woman.

Anyway, Merle seemed to be a good man. Maybe in time they would become closer? Yet by time (and the advent of his future actions) could this be known. Still, how much time did any of them have? Haley sat for a time in silence. Happy that not a word had been spoke in the next two hours.

END PART 25

*************************** Below the Line *****************************

Since I mentioned (in an earlier chapter) that there was a way for Haley to return, I feel that resurrecting her as her twin sister would fall fit to what television written series (like TWD) are capable of doing. I don't mean to offend any of the creators of show, (they are masters of the work) but since this is a fan-fiction story arc it's just my way of reviving actress Alexa Nikolas. I do wish we could have seen more of her. I decided to create a little back-story for her character. Haley may be gone, but her twin sister still lives. Will Kaley show up in future episode of "Stand Alone", you, the reader can decide. Let me know.

PS: I am also interested in exploring the back-stories of Martinez and others….anyone interested?

What the author listens to while writing:

Lindsey Stirling: Lindsey Stirling Time

Anything Lindsey Stirling…

Jess Moskaluke & Eppic - Storm Before the Calm

Kait Weston – Fix You

Pentatonix- Radioactive (feat Lindsey Stirling)


	26. Chapter 26

Stand Alone 26

"One Night"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 26- One Night" is a chapter that attempts to explore the growing relationship between Haley & Merle (no…not that kind of relationship! Not yet anyway), a "getting to know you" kind of relationship.

What would you do if someone saved your life? I take it that you wouldn't ignore them; you'd attempt to open channels, see what you and that person had in common (and also, what you did not). Haley & Merle, in this story arc are like two people that are ships passing in the night. One toots its horn in greeting and also lets you know that they will stick to the left. The other ship acknowledges with a blast of their own horn to say "hello" and post that they will stay on their side. It's happened zillions of times throughout the centuries, in regard to ship safety, and shows respect. This night, Haley & Merle are like those two ships, well sortta…. hope you enjoy the story, Z

*************************** One Night *****************************

"So, you think that the Governor and Reverend Ellis are animals….?"

Haley listened to Merle's words, but she wasn't sure if he had gotten her meaning. Not that she had said such a thing….. but, yes…. She considered them animals. Well, maybe not the Governor, but certainly Ellis. He was a vicious beast, intent on fueling his sick mind, and confident that his position would allow him amnesty from persecution should claims be made against him. The good Reverend had never really touched her, but Haley still got the heebie-jeebies when she was around him. She felt that it was only a matter of time before he made his play, and either she, or one of the other girls would become his victim. People were more vulnerable during stressful times, and the vultures above took advantage.

She looked over at Merle, he wasn't convinced that she knew what she was talking about, but Haley didn't expect that he would. Talking with some of the other girls, they felt the way that she did.

At that moment the two atop of the platform heard a sound coming from down the left side of the street beyond the barricade. It hadn't been a loud noise, just enough to get their attention. Merle raised his automatic rifle; he looked down the scope to see if anything came into view. There was a bit of movement coming from around the corner of a building, he took aim, placing the cross-hairs on his intended target, he felt a light touch on his arm.

"Are you sure it's a biter?"

He paused from pulling the trigger. Haley had stopped him from delivering a bullet into the skull of someone he couldn't clearly see. Of course with it being dark, and with the play of shadows, he could not actually tell if it were a living person or not…. was it someone dead or someone that only looked to be a goon?

"Let's let them get closer," she whispered, "sometimes it's hard to distinguish a biter from some poor malnourished soul that's still wearing tattered clothing. We've had several people come to us that way. I was much the same when the Governor found me."

Merle realized the wisdom in her words. He had blood on his hands, but never the blood of murder. He eased his weapon down and rested it upon his hip; he would wait until they could get a better look. At twenty-five paces there wasn't a doubt left. The blood oozing from the mouth, the heavy breathing…which had always been a concern of Merle's, if they were dead, then why were they still inhaling and exhaling breath? That would be a question for Milton…. the next time he saw him. Maybe that arrogant SOB of a scientist had an answer for that.

Anyway, with the transgressor getting closer, there was no reason not to slay it right there in the street. Again Merle raised his rifle, and again Haley cautioned him about firing.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"What? What are you talking about; taking out a biter is an excellent idea. You think I should just let a herd gather here on the street before I start blasting? Take out a batch of them altogether….this ain't no hunting expedition Haley, I'm not shooting rabbits...we get a biter in range; it's time to put them down."

"I'm not talking about putting them down; I agree with that…what I am talking about is your method, rifle-fire…in the middle of the night. Merle not only will it summon more goons, it'll wake up the entire neighborhood."

Right again. He hated when other people present more logical to an issue other than what he had considered, especially a female. Haley didn't know this about Merle, but he was somewhat of a male chauvinist. Just as he had inherited a concern for family from his mother, he had gotten certain traits from his father as well, and some of those weren't good, fact was they were rotten.

Merle hadn't invented the term "weaker sex" but he sure was a believer in it. Ladies were supposed to be soft and gentle and, a true woman should to be protected by a man. Sure the apocalypse had changed things, the fairer sex had become fighters, survivors, yet they were not still on the same level as men. God help his soul but Merle was a Neanderthal, a prime example of primeval man, and he was proud of it.

"So, what am I supposed to do, spit on it?"

Haley wanted to laugh, but she contained herself. She got the idea that Merle wouldn't find it so funny.

"Here, try this," she held out her weapon to Merle, "…..it's a lot quieter, and the Governor, won't have to slip on his pants, and Rowan won't have to put on her clothes to investigate the sound of gunfire," she smile as she held out the weapon to him.

That was news to Merle; he didn't know that the Governor and Rowan had a thing going, no wonder Rowan always refused to discuss the leader of Woodbury with him. Merle looked at the crossbow…

"Nope…I suck at crossbow; I'd rather try something else."

"Merle, you have "spotter's choice". You get first try at bringing the biter down."

Merle took the weapon. It seemed clumsy in his grasp, and having one hand didn't help. He took aim at the goon (getting ever closer to the wall). Daryl was good with this type of weapon, Merle thought, it would be such a hoot that…. if they were ever reunited, he could show his brother that his crossbow skills had improved. That he, Merle, was as good a shot with this instrument as Daryl (sibling rivalry). He took bead on the biter moving closer to the wall, ten steps away, now nine. Poor soul, with its pitiful condition Merle couldn't tell if this was a man or woman? Yet it didn't matter when it came to biters. He squeezed the trigger and the arrow zipped passed the goon's right shoulder. It shattered against the hard surface of the pavement behind. He strung another arrow, this time it whizzed past the biter's left ear. Again breaking apart as it hit the hard surface of the road behind.

"Here, let me try," Haley said. She acquired the crossbow from Merle. Resting the weapon squarely against her shoulder she took aim and squeezing the trigger. She put an arrow directly through the biter's brain. The goon hit the pavement with a "THUD", and Haley turned to smile at the man she shared the platform with.

"That's how it's done," she spoke.

"How'd you learn to do that, "Merle quizzed?

"My father," she answered. Haley took a brief second contemplating if she should say what she was going to say next. Some men were mature, and didn't mind being bested by a woman, but some got their feelings hurt. Which was Merle?

"By the way, I only had fourteen arrows, now I have twelve. By the time you got done I likely wouldn't have had any. I would have had to turn my crossbow into a violin. There's a girl here name Lindsey, Lindsey Stirling. She plays the violin and entertains us sometimes at night. She's very good; maybe I could have turned my crossbow into a violin and taken lessons. "

Of course Haley was only joking…..Merle didn't seem to take offense, she was pleased. She offered a solution.

"Tomorrow we can start your crossbow lessons after lunch," Haley stated, "that is, if you're interested?"

Merle looked at the arrow sticking out of the biter's skull.

"I'm interested, but what about the arrow in the goons head?"

Haley looked down at the dead zombie in the street.

"We'll recover it after daybreak. I've learned my lesson, don't cross the Governor…or break one of his rules or you'll be subject to retaliation, you get on his shit list. I refuse to let that happen to me again," she spoke. She grinned at Merle. They were becoming fast friends.

END PART 26


	27. Chapter 27

Stand Alone 27

"Brothers"

Author's notes:….. "Stand Alone 27-Brothers" explores some of the backstory of Merle and Daryl, their childhood and the bond that developed between them through their years of abusive. Although this is a fan-fiction fabrication, I'm sure that it is a sad fact that actually persists today. Let's hope that child abuse will someday cease, and hope that it doesn't take a zombie apocalypse for it to end.

*************************** Brothers *****************************

"Daryl Dixon! Get your little ass in here!"…The fourteen year old boy heard his father call from the kitchen. From the sound…..and the tone of his voice, this wouldn't be good. One reason, he sounded aggravated, yet he always seemed aggravated about something. There was a little saying by the children of the Dixon household, "if daddy ain't happy, ain't nobody happy". A little expression that the three siblings humored themselves with, their father being mad about something was nothing new.

Gone for the past four months, Harold Dixon was home from his last construction job. The thing about Dixon, the patriarch, was that he didn't like being home. He'd rather be out on the road on a construction job (or at bar drinking with his buddies) rather than with his family. That was his preference…..he'd rather be somewhere else other than at home, with a nonresponsive wife and snotty nosed brats. Being home meant family, family and responsibility, and he didn't like the involvement of family or responsibility, so he didn't like being home. Of course the feelings were mutual; his family didn't like it when he was home either. The fact was that they stayed away from their father as much as possible.

Daryl had been the child unlucky enough to have stayed in the house that day. Hayden had gone to stay with their cousin Sandra, across town, and Merle had gone fishing with a friend. Their mother had locked herself in the bedroom after taking a dose of sleeping pills. That left him, and his father.

Daryl, looking at his father noticed that he was nearly "three sheets to the wind" already. It seemed that it wouldn't take much more alcohol to put him down, down into an intoxicated state of immobile slumber. However, for some reason he remained awake.

Daryl entered the kitchen and approached his father. The man looked disturbed….

"So, what do you have to say for yourself," he quizzed his youngest son?

"About what?"

The older man opened the refrigerator door, the light inside exposing a variety of sliced sandwich meats, jar of pickles, and bottle of mustard and mayo, but little else…

Harold looked at his boy, Daryl just stood there…..

"So," the father asked?

"So, what…?"

"There were a couple more beers in here, where are they now?"

Daryl made no replay, only shrugging his shoulders to show that he hadn't a clue of what his father was talking about….which was a lie, Daryl knew exactly where the beers had gone, Merle had taken them. Merle and a friend of his had gone fishing, and he had swiped the two remaining beers, yet…..as of this moment, Daryl would not tell his father, he wouldn't rat out his older brother.

"So, you take them?"

"Wasn't me. I got no idea where your beers have gone. Maybe you're so drunk you don't remember that you drank them already."

At fourteen, his youngest son's reply came as a total surprise to the Dixon father…

"Why you little shithead, one thing I do remember when I was your age was how to respect my elders. I learned that at the end of a strap… and maybe that is something that has been neglected in your pitiful youth. Well I'll make amends for that today! "

With that the patriarch of the Dixon clan began to unfastening the buckle of his belt. Daryl knew that maybe he'd overstepped his bounds, but someone had to speak up for themselves, for Hayden, for their mother. This family had put up with their father's shit for too long. Daryl had hoped that his brother would man-up, but Merle was gone most of the time, moonshine running or involved in his illicit drug deals. It was time for someone to take a stand, and if it meant that he were to make the sacrifice, then so be it. Daryl was tired of their father taking out his frustrations on his family when he was home; he accepted the responsibility of challenging that abuse. He would take a lashing if he had to….. but only if he had to?

Daryl had a sturdy set of legs, and he could run like a deer. There was no dishonor in running, "not when your opponent is over twice your size"…..he remembered Merle saying. ESCAPE! It wouldn't be easy because the door lay just beyond the old man. He could easily outdistance their father, the thing was, his only avenue of escape lay past the inebriated fool. Daryl made a break for it. His father made a grab for him but missed. Daryl was out the door and able to cove a distance of thirty feet before he felt a grip on his collar, his father had nabbed him.

"Alright you little bastard, time to pay the cost of having such a smart-mouth, and for stealing those last two beers," his father's grip was unbreakable.

Harold Dixon stood over his young son, his belt only partially undone. He felt that he could not relinquish his hold on the boy to finish the job. He looked around for an alternative method of discipline. He found a solid maple tree branch lying in the grass just at their feet; he reached down and picked it up. He reviewed it as if he were inspecting a weld on a new fabricated pipe; it seemed solid enough, a good tool for expressing a point. He hoisted the disciplinary instrument high above his head….

Daryl remembered the scene well, the image of his father holding the stick above his head, silhouetted by a deep blue afternoon sky, it ever remained sketched in his brain. Then he remembered the agony, the pain, the force of the blows as they rained down across his body. ONE…TWO….THREE….then out of the corner of his eye there was a flash…it took only moment before he discovered that it was Merle, his brother had blitzed the old man from his blind side, knocking him over to the ground. Merle then got up and retrieved the maple branch and began extracting punishment on their father. The older man began to scream, threatening his elder son with calling the law, but Merle, the victim of their father's abuse for years, had no fear of the authority. He had been through rougher confrontations with drug dealer, or moonshiners scammers. He held no fright in the petty law-enforcement of King County. The sturdy tree branch held in his hand fell time and time again. It delivered its justice on a man that had beaten his children and their mother without consequence…..it was time to pay the piper.

"Bring on the rain papa, stand alone…die alone. Your family is all you have and you treat us like shit! You ain't gonna hurt Daryl no-more, or Hayden, or mama. This is it for you… you old fucker…now get the fuck out of here before I beat you to death!"

The man ran off still screaming but did not turn back...

Merle took his brother inside. He called for an ambulance, but decided that it was better for him not to be around when they arrived. He was in an inebriated state himself (having drunk his father's beers, then sharing a dozen that his friend had brought). He needn't be there for their questioning. He called Hayden and told her what had happened. She told him she'd come home and make up some story for the authorities. She was a smart girl; Merle knew she could pull it off, she was very convincing. He loved his sister, just as he loved his brother. Merle left his home and went into hiding.

...Now, as Merle Dixon sat in the chair on the wall with a girl he'd saved some time earlier, Haley, she for some reason brought him back to his childhood, a childhood that wasn't all bad; there were fond days….days when he remembered that he wasn't such an asshole. He recalled the words he'd spoke to his father that time when he was beating Daryl... "stand alone, die alone". Seems his life had almost taken the same road. Was it too late? Could he make amends? Merle had a lot of contemplating to do before his life ended, different choices to make….would they be the right choices…. That was up for debate.

END PART 27


	28. Chapter 28

Stand Alone 28

"Two Women"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 28: Two Women" was almost renamed "Recruits", but being that when Andrea and Michonne are discovered and captured, and only one of them is convinced that Woodbury could be their new home, it was decided to continue with the original title. Anyhoo, thanks for reading and I hope that you like, Z

PS: My thanks to all that are reading this story arc, and to those who have posted reviews (the last being by Rika24 and SeverusSnap'sLover, I appreciate your comments :)

*************************** Two Women *****************************

Andrea and Michonne remained hidden behind their concealment. They watched as a crew of about ten men searched the downed helicopter for survivors. They had found one still living, the remainders were all deceased. Still, the team of men seemed intent on butchering the bodies of the dead. Putting pointy things through their heads, what debauchery was this? Mutilating corpses? Sometimes it seemed that the living were worse than the souls that had gone on to become the monsters of the undead.

Andrea, still suffering from fever was barely able to process the events that transpired before her. Thank God she had her partner to help her through this sickness. Andrea could hear the undead decoys Michonne had chained to a tree. The smell of fresh blood maybe intensifying their nature, but also, their aggression may give away her and Michonne's position. Too much noise and the walkers could bring the attention of the marauders upon them as well. She watched as her companion dispatched the two goons. Decapitating them without hesitation, no matter, they could get more.

Andrea had become separated from her tribe that one horrible night at the Greene farm. She had been rescued by the woman who was now her companion. They had been a team of sorts for some time now, but exhaustion and lack of food had weakened Andrea's resistance to sickness. She had become ill and was suffering from high fever and had, at moments, terrible pain running through her body, also at times she was delirious.

The two women watched as one man took control of the situation, he seemed to be the leader, but then before they could react there was a sound behind them. Andrea heard a voice; she turned to look into the face of a man that she had never imagined she'd see again, and that grin, that smile of his was toxic. Merle Dixon stood there, just inches behind them… then all went dark, she had passed out.

*************************** Merle, The Governor & Woodbury *****************************

Merle Dixon and the people of Woodbury seemed pleasant enough. They seemed like average people in an average country town that lived pre-apocalypse, but it was all an illusion. An illusion created by one man, the Governor.

It had been only a short time since Andrea and Michonne had been taken to the fortified little town. Inside it was all Mayberry, but outside its fortified walls was chaos and fate worse than death. Andrea, the blonde haired woman, found it to be the sanctuary she'd been looking for, while Michonne wasn't so sure. Freedom….The Governor proclaimed the freedom of everyone in the village... short of chores and work duties to preform, but in Michonne's eyes, freedom wasn't a place where your weapons were taken from you. The Governor had a sense of flair and arrogance about him, which intrigued Andrea, while at the same time repelled Michonne. She held a mistrust for the man who seemed to be in so much control.

Andrea didn't see it, she had actually been searching for a place like Woodbury all of her life, even before the world went to shit. Being a Civil Rights Attorney she had fought and won, many battles inside the courtroom, now she was battling with Michonne over remaining at Woodbury. Yet, this seemed to be a battle Andrea was destined to achieve ill success with. Michonne was too head-strong of a woman, and did not make friends easily, which could be a benefit or hindrance in a world gone to hell. She didn't trust the Governor, and upon examining the troop carrier post return of the man and his crew, the bullet holes and blood spoke another story. Michonne was determined to leave, and she would let nothing stop her…even Andrea.

Before she could convince her not to go, Andrea's companion had slipped away from Woodbury and was back on her own again. Andrea felt sad, but what could she do? A sense of loneliness overtook her…..and this was an opportunity which fit the Governor's plan for Andrea perfectly. Through clouded judgment and haze filled eyes, Andrea was taken in. Court attorney though she had been...Andrea had an affinity for suspect men. When would she wise up?

*************************** The Truth, and what it means to Merle *****************************

Merle Dixon was a man who seemed to have lived an unforgivingly charmed life. First of all having been in the company of an abusive, exploitive parent….he was lucky to have lived past the age of twelve. Then, with all of his drug dealings and spending that hitch of time inside Georgia's penal system, he again felt charmed for having walked out of prison alive. Now, with the zombie apocalypse, and being chained up on a roof in a pair of handcuffs… left anchored to a pipe, and here, he was still around. Life was good, Merle smiled, well at least at the moment it didn't suck...

Merle had found the Governor, and made headway in becoming one of his lieutenants, maybe the top one? Still, he knew what type of man Philip really was. He had witnessed him cut the throats of many a survivor, people that the leader of Woodbury felt threatened by. The Governor was all about power, power and control. He reminded Merle a bit of himself, still, Merle would never have killed someone so blatantly, that's where the difference in them lie. Merle was a killer, but he was no murderer. He hadn't even shot those army troops in the caravan the enforcers of Woodbury went out to ambush. He'd either shot into the ground or up in the air to disguise his participation in the event. He had killed biters, and a man or two that had come to kill him (he wasn't past killing to survive), but mainly Merle had gotten through life with his bulk and intimidation. He had that look about him that threatened anger and revolt. It had severed him well in the past.

Now another thing that was causing Merle to believe that he was blessed with a charmed life was the fact that he had found Andrea, and had been informed that his brother was still alive. Merle couldn't wait to be on his way to the Greene's family farm. He would have already left if it hadn't been for the negative response he'd received from the Governor. Still when requested where his loyalties lie, Merle had led Philip to believe that he was a citizen of Woodbury, first and foremost. But deep down when it came to blood, the Dixon family relation outweighed any other option. Merle was more about getting his family back together (Daryl and Hayden) over his loyalty to Woodbury.

END PART 28


	29. Chapter 29

Stand Alone 29

"Andrea"

Author's notes: "Stand Alone 29" posted…..

Was it just me, or were the final two episodes of season 3 of TWD humdingers? This story arc (chap 29) explores Andrea, RIP milady. It took me two weeks of grieving and 2 gallons of ice cream to get over her demise….OK, I am only joking; it was more like 16 quarts.

Anyhoo, I am sorry if I sounded unsympathetic…that is really not the case. But, in the world of fan-fiction Andrea is not dead. DID YOU SEE A BODY? All I heard was the sound of a gunshot, and all that could mean was that Andrea & Michonne shot Milton in the foot.

Anyway, chapter 29 is up and running. I hope you get my jest in the "Author's notes" section. I do really enjoy TWD, and I hope to see Andrea again in season 4.

PS: My sincere thanks to Therm for the fine review…..a glass of elegant champagne and a nice dinner for you my friend, Z.

*************************** Andrea *****************************

Andrea had thought that Woodbury would be her salvation, her sanctuary, she had thought wrong. The comfort and acceptance she had felt when she'd first arrived had been dwindling for some time now. Disillusioned, she had sought the confidence and favor of Philip, the Governor. His persuasion had settled her mind for a time, and the village seemed just the place that she needed to be. She knew that Philip was a stern man, yet a decent one, at least that was her view before the night of the arena.

Andrea's feelings for Philip were still under alteration. She assumed, at first, that he was a good leader for the sheltered community. But those feeling had begun to falter that night, the night the shackled biters had been led into the circle of the games. At that time…at that moment in the darkness, no matter his attempt to explain to her that the showcase of biters was a good thing, deep down Andrea had known it to be wrong, wrong to treat people that way, even if they were biters. A sense of uneasiness had begun to creep its way into her system.

Although it may have been months ago, every zombie walking the earth, had, at some point been a person. Doctors, accountants, grocery clerks, maybe even a lawyer. Average folk with average jobs, when they were alive.

Had they, at some time of their lives, enjoyed the warm feel of the sun upon their shoulders while at the beach… before the end of the world? Or had they enjoyed ice-cream, or the joy of watching their children play in a schoolyard? They had been human before the apocalypse, people who loved, and had been loved. Now in their decay they were being used as entertainment, seen as insects to be exterminated with metaphoric bug spray.

Andrea had felt a wretchedness craw up into her gut. She watched as biters were led around on chains, she stood firm as the zombie games progressed. She had felt so shamed afterwards. Her feeling was one of betrayal, betrayal to the human race, rather than exuberance over what she'd seen. And she could see that Milton was not without disgust himself. His repugnance of the man he acknowledged as his boss was evident to the blonde haired woman, although maybe not so evident to the Governor. It was one thing to kill a biter in defense, yet quite another to play with them like ragdolls.

As she stood there, alongside the arena, a bystander for sure, yet she was as guilty as the Governor for not walking off in disapproval, she had joined with the crowd and cheered as the rotting shells of those soulless bodies had been treated as though they were fighting dogs. Her attitude now was, what if it had been Amy brought to the gladiator circle? Harnessed with a collar around her neck? She remembered that she wanted to vomit at the thought of it.

Andrea thought back to the days after her sister's attack outside of Atlanta. The Civil Rights Lawyer had found a notebook; a diary really, nestled within the confines of sister's personal belonging (within Dale's motorhome). As she sifted through the pages she became aware of her sister's thoughts, Amy's dreams, her desires….. And one of her desires had been to follow in her big sister's footsteps. As Andrea read she became alerted to her sister's fears, of her expressed idea of possibly never seeing their parents again, of never being able to go fishing with their father one last time. Amy had described that as heartbreak, yet if there was one person in the world that would be able to help her through this; it would be her big sister, Andrea.

Andrea read further, and noticed that there were poems her sister had written, poems of the Atlanta survivors…. She read the poems…

Poem 1) Dale, Dale, wishes everyone well, doesn't he realize the worlds gone to hell? As sweet and cuddly, the old man that he be, his interest in everyone does seem creepy.

2) Shaw, Shaw, follows Lori like a fawn; I swear he seems like a trout on the spawn. His leadership of the clan may be righteous and hard to swallow, but if he does what he says, the people will follow.

3) Merle Dixon: Humpty Dumpty stood on a wall, Humpty Dumpty dare not to fall. He stood there all poised… and brazen as a beacon, but if he did fall, his ass would be eaten. I was not so sad when Andrea spoke he was missing, but the hunt for this jerk, his brother Daryl was insisting.

The poems ended there. Seems she hadn't had the time to scribe any more prose for the rest of the tribe. Andrea closed the diary, hoping to read it again another day. She wiped away a tear as it rolled down from her eye just as Dale was entering the motor-home.

*************************** Woodbury, After the Gun Battle *****************************

Andrea stood in Haley's apartment, the girl who'd reminded her a little of her sister. Haley was gone now, killed in the melee of gunfire that had taken place between the townsfolk of Woodbury and Andrea's old clan who'd come back for Daryl. Who was right, or who was wrong? The circumstances were so confusing that neither could hold claim. Little comfort would it be for the folk who had been killed, on either side. Andrea was beginning to become beyond disturbed with the craziness the world had assumed. All she wanted was the remainder of humanity to find a peaceful place to coexist. Then people like Milton could search for a cure for the retched disease that had claimed so many souls.

As a civil rights attorney she was all about the human condition and living in a free and cohesive society. Yet even in a world reduced to a scant remnant of its original population… WE still could not get along. There was always someone wanting to possess more, have more of what they wanted above what they needed. It was a sad thing. Maybe the walkers, or biters were more civil than the folk who lived in fear of them. At least when they were called to a feast… there was no bickering or debate as to who could have more….as disgusting a though as that may be.

Andrea gritted her teeth. In a short period of time Philip and Rick were to meet in a disclosed area of mutual consent. Two bulls circling one another in an arena to see who had the biggest balls, only she planned to be there too. Her court experience had enlightened her ability to compromise…. And she planned on being the one uninvited essence, without testosterone, whom had the coolest head. When it came to men, they always seemed ready to bash their brains in against a concrete wall.

END PART 29


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